


Kiss of the Dragon

by soulfulsin



Series: Dragons [3]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Dragons, F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-09-29 20:40:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20442179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulfulsin/pseuds/soulfulsin
Summary: Doofus Drake decides he needs to repay Louie escaping his hold so many years ago. Meanwhile, Magica de Spell continues to plot Lena's demise, Poe attempts to form a relationship with his estranged daughter, and Lena tries to take on Magica without any help from her Bondeds.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly didn't think I was playing in this universe anymore, but working on an RP (that I don't actually enjoy -_-) that's set with some of the same characteristics always makes me want to play with the DuckTales people in this one. 
> 
> Also, I don't actually ship Doofus/Louie. I just wanted to up the creepy factor. XD

Sometimes, Magica found Gladstone’s vacuous staring irritating. While he would always perform whatever she asked without prompting, he never spoke anymore. She could have sex with him, which she’d tried precisely once because it was like having sex with a robot. Plus, even in her current mental state, it creeped her out. It was too close to rape for her tastes. 

Three months had passed since Poe’s resurrection and betrayal, choosing Lena over her. In that time, Magica had delved deeper into the dark arts. As a result, her skin had grown scales, even in humanoid form, and her fingers had turned into talons. Her eyes had transformed into draconic gold, and her form was, if the books could be believed, “corrupted.” Magica didn’t think that.

She also didn’t believe that Gladstone was utterly ignorant of his surroundings. Unfortunately, she also didn’t think that Scrooge had stopped looking for him. He was lulling her into a false sense of security before springing a trap on her. As of now, the official charge, added to her list of crimes, was kidnapping. She was certain once Scrooge saw what she’d done to his grand-nephew, that would change. 

She didn’t concern herself with that. Instead, she searched the astral plane for someone close enough to Lena to observe her. She didn’t have access to Violet anymore. Once Webby and Lena had found out how she’d been controlling their new friend, they’d shut down that source fast. Magica had yet to find anyone else with untapped magical capacity. She might have to resort to leaving the flat herself, which was dangerous. If anyone recognized her, she’d be thrown into Scrooge’s dungeons, and this time, there would be no mercy. Not once they found Gladstone.

Magica frowned, flipping through her grimoire. She was seated in the living room on the couch and glanced up to find Gladstone gazing at her again. His expression was as dead as it had ever been.

“Yes?” she snapped.

As usual, he gave no response. Her mental sense of him had dulled over the past three months. Irritation warred with anxiety. For all that he was a good servant and his luck served them both, she regretted what she’d done. She hadn’t meant to break him quite so thoroughly, just get him to stop fighting her. That the Bond had warped when she did was a side effect of her perverting magic.

“I’m going out,” she announced, slamming the book closed. He stared, uncomprehending. She might as well have announced she was walking around Dragonburg naked for all the emotion she’d gotten from him. As she walked past him, she touched his cheek. Right after she’d warped the Bond, she’d been able to touch him. Now, the spark, which had leapt between them and warmed her, hurt. It stung to even brush against him.

He flinched, the first indication that something else was going on in his head in a long time, and she cocked her head at him. Pressing her lips together, she kissed him on the lips. The resulting shockwave sent her reeling backward, her temples pounding and feeling like someone had set her on fire. When the sensation had vanished, Gladstone’s expression had shifted for a second, so quickly she might have imagined the disdain on his face.

No, she must have been imagining it. His expression hadn’t altered in three months. Shaking her head at herself, she departed, leaving Gladstone standing there in the living room. He would probably be in the same position when she returned. 

* * *

Gladstone Gander was only himself when Magica wasn’t around. However, she’d placed barriers about the flat, so he couldn’t call for help or do much of anything. Like a slave, he had to do what Magica bade him. She was leeching off his luck, and there wasn’t anything he could do about that either. 

In the past, he might have thought there was hope for her. Now, however, he knew she’d reached the point of no return. The problem was that she’d brought him with her.

* * *

Lena was fidgeting with her amulet again. Even though Calente’s amulet had guaranteed Magica couldn’t interfere in her life again, she still sensed wrongness surrounding her aunt. Scrooge had launched an investigation into where Magica and Gladstone were, and Magica’s face was everywhere, in case anyone had any difficulty identifying her. For Lena, her aunt’s face was seared into her mind. Even if she forgot her memories again, she wouldn’t forget about her.

The longer Magica and Gladstone were missing, the more compelled she felt to tell Scrooge about the wrongness. Webby had tried, bless her, but she couldn’t convey it accurately because she hadn’t felt it. Lena was careful to probe only when Webby and Dewey weren’t paying attention. It was like poking a toothache--you knew you shouldn’t, but you can’t stop.

Poe knew something was wrong with Magica too, but Lena didn’t trust her so-called father as far as she could throw him. She did not forgive her father for succumbing to Magica and especially resented him for being the reason for her misery growing up. Violet was one thing; Poe de Spell was something else entirely. Violet hadn’t been in full possession of her faculties when Magica had been manipulating her. Poe seemed to have been. 

At present, Lena was poking through an old diary. She’d closed up the old apartment she’d used to live in, though “apartment” seemed a generous term for where she’d squatted. As far as diaries go, it didn’t have anything incriminating in it or, really, anything unusual. She didn’t want to leave anything that could hurt her where Magica could access it. Still, she’d managed to convey her feelings for Webby, although the girl had remained ignorant for years.

Lena sighed. She loved her wife, but Webby could be so thick-headed about certain things.

What Lena ought to do was leave Magica’s predicament to Magica. After all, her aunt couldn’t touch her anymore, and with her out of her life, Lena might be able to recover from years of constant abuse. Cal had needed to heal her again, specifically any areas of her brain that might’ve been affected by Magica’s mental attacks. She ought to have been in tip-top shape thanks to the Bond, but she was worried. Dewey and Webby had gone out, and Lena had begged off. She wasn’t in the mood for companionship right now.

She wasn’t in the mood for herself, either, but she didn’t see how she was going to outrun herself. The self-loathing was so thick that it burned her throat again. She’d blocked her mates out, so they didn’t have to experience it. If she were going to brood, she would do so alone.

Nothing in her diary gave her any insight into what Magica might have done. She needed to talk to Scrooge, although it was hard sometimes to get him alone with Goldie around. And, like Webby and most of the Dragon clan, she didn’t trust Goldie as far as she could throw her. Scrooge might believe her thanks to the Bond, but that didn’t mean anyone else had to. Lena found it ironic that Goldie couldn’t backstab Scrooge anymore because it’d rebound on her, and she’d willingly accepted that. Magica had gone to pieces over it, from what Lena could tell.

Not that she was supposed to be telling anything regarding Magica. She needed to let it go, and she couldn’t.

There was also the matter that Lena shouldn’t be practicing this type of magic without a partner or spotter. It could be dangerous as hell, and she was risking herself. But she was stubborn, and she didn’t care, not right now. She needed to get to the bottom of this and find out what was going on, where her aunt and Gladstone were holed up, and track her down. She couldn’t do that by gallivanting around with Dewey and Webby, no matter how tempting the offer.

However, Lena had made a mistake in thinking she was alone in the house. Launchpad might’ve been off with Drake Mallard; Webby, the triplets, Scrooge, Della, and Goldie might’ve been off adventuring, but that left one person. Lena groaned as someone knocked on the door. 

“Lena?” Mrs. Beakley called. Reluctantly, Lena rose and opened the door. She remained intimidated by Mrs. Beakley, who was, after all, her grandmother-in-law. Mrs. Beakley stared back at her with a feather duster in her hand. Lena affected a nonchalant air and leaned against the doorframe.

“Hey, Ringo,” Lena said. Mrs. Beakley’s eyes narrowed.

“Don’t call me that.”

“All right, Paul,” Lena said, smirking.

Mrs. Beakley rolled her eyes. “Why didn’t you go off with the others?”

“Do I need an explanation for everything?” Lena said and then realized belatedly she’d taken the diary with her. She shoved it behind her back; she felt oddly self-conscious about it. It wasn’t like she had anything incriminating in there, but it was the principle of the thing.

“No,” Mrs. Beakley said and then gestured for Lena to follow her. “But we haven’t discussed what befell you during the Bonding ceremony and then what happened to Magica.”

Lena froze. “You know what happened to Aunt Magica?”

“Simply because Scrooge chooses to disregard it doesn’t mean I’m not taking it seriously. Webby told me all about it.”

Lena didn’t know whether to be relieved or anxious. On the one hand, someone outside of the Bond believed her. On the other hand, Scrooge was shrugging it off. This was serious. His arrogance could be astonishing sometimes. Lena guessed he was too busy celebrating Della’s return to adventuring and Goldie’s accompaniment to think about the danger he might be in. Magica had access to her magic, a willing pawn, and the means to travel about Dragonburg. 

Lena followed Mrs. Beakley into the kitchen. She discovered that the older dragon had already started a kettle to boil and laid out two mugs. Lena had thought Mrs. Beakley didn’t know she was present. Apparently, Mrs. Beakley knew everything that was going on around here.

At the older dragon’s gesture, Lena sat. The kettle whistled, Mrs. B poured them tea, and produced sugar and milk, though she took it plain. Lena wasn’t much for tea, but it seemed par for the course here, so she spooned sugar into hers. It would be impolite to refuse, and although Lena could be rude, she didn’t think this was the time to be, not when she had her ear.

“If what you say is true, then Gladstone is in danger,” Mrs. Beakley said after a minute of savoring her tea.

“What’s left of him, yeah,” Lena said, staring into her tea for a few seconds. She looked up and frowned. “Magica did a number on both of them.”

“I told Mr. McDragon not to let him out with Magica, but did he listen? Of course not.”

“Magica would’ve snared him anyway,” Lena said, shrugging. “She gets what she wants. Always.”

Mrs. Beakley’s expression softened. “She didn’t get you, my dear.”

“She sure as hell tried,” Lena snapped, balling her fists. Her worry returned, and her stomach clenched. “We still don’t know why Black Heron and Doofus Drake attacked Webby and Dewey either, or how they knew the Bonding Ceremony was happening. Magica might’ve known, but she isn’t the type to work with someone unless they can prove themselves.”

“The Beagle Boys have likewise been absent,” Mrs. Beakley said and then scowled. “Although they’re not proficient at anything. Flintheart Glomgold, on the other hand…”

“That pretentious moneybag?” Lena scoffed. 

“You’re right. He may want to damage Mr. McDragon’s reputation and claim his place as the richest dragon in the world, but murder seems out of his league.”

“And as annoying as Mark Talons is, he’s not that type,” Lena said. She frowned. “I tried searching for Aunt Magica and Gladstone earlier, but it’s like touching a livewire, not to mention I don’t want Aunt Magica to catch me at it.”

Mrs. Beakley’s eyes narrowed. “The only way for you to do so is to remove the necklace.”

Lena smiled weakly, chagrined. “Maybe.”

“Lena Vanderroar Dragon!” 

“Webby’s right. That _is _a mouthful,” Lena said, her lips now twisting toward a wry smile.

“That is not the point! You’re putting yourself at risk again--”

“Better me than Webby or Dewey, Abbey Road.”

“Do not get flippant with me.”

She was studying Lena with all too intense gaze, and it was all Lena could do to force herself to maintain eye contact.

“You always do so when you have something to hide.”

“I’m not hiding anything,” Lena retorted, folding her arms across her chest.

“Oh? So, when did you plan on telling Webby and Dewey you’ve been leaving yourself open for a psychic attack?” she countered.

Lena dropped her gaze. The twelfth of never. That was when she’d tell them she was exposing herself. Webby would have a conniption, and so would Dewey once Webby explained everything to him. Well, he wouldn’t be angry like Webs, but he’d be upset and asking her why she had to do it. She balled her fists tighter.

“Better me than them,” Lena repeated flatly.

“Better that you don’t do this at all,” she retorted. “You know the risks.”

“Yeah, and I took them because someone has to,” Lena snapped. She was growing defensive and didn’t appreciate Mrs. Beakley digging at her. Behind the desire to learn more was, as always, that self-destructive impulse. That was a good reason to keep it from her Bondmates. Anything that hurt her would hurt them, too, unless she found a way to insulate them. She was working on that.

Mrs. Beakley’s gaze had gone flat too. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“I’ve told you all I need to. I’ll figure out where they are and how to grab them myself.”

“You will do no such thing. There is a difference between scouting and putting yourself in unnecessary danger. You know what Magica would do to you if she could get her hands on you.”

Lena glowered at the older dragon, who remained impassive. 

“And you know what would happen to Webby and Dewey if you got hurt,” she continued, relentless. “Do you want their suffering to be on your conscience? Even _if _you found a way to block them out, they would be hurt and baffled as to why someone they love felt the need to enter a situation she knew would be harmful. They would feel as if you didn’t trust them, despite Bonding with them and marrying them. Moreover, they would wonder why someone that supposedly loves them would subject them to this.”

Lena’s gaze dropped again. Shit. She was good at this. Out of the corner of her eye, Mrs. Beakley smirked.

“I know how to weaponize guilt, my dear. Don’t think you can pull one over on me.”

Lena searched for a way to argue against her. All of her arguments died on her lips, and she sensed she knew that. Nothing she could say about letting herself stand in harm’s way would hold up against her mates suffering in her stead, especially Webby. In the last three months, she’d grown to care for Dewey, although she would always love Webby more. 

“There is no way you can go there by yourself, without letting them know, without upsetting them,” Mrs. Beakley said. “Now, if you were to go in there with them, which I wouldn’t advise, but I know Webby would insist upon, you might stand a better chance.”

Lena opened her mouth and then shut it. Mrs. Beakley moved forward and smoothed her hair back. It must’ve been nice, growing up with someone who cared about you, someone who looked out for you. The longing in her was so fierce that it brought tears to her eyes. Webby had grown up with a loving grandmother and a surrogate family. Lena had yearned for years to feel that firsthand.

“You are loved,” Mrs. Beakley said and then frowned. “So don’t do anything ill-advised.”

Lena nodded, her gaze still on the rapidly cooling tea. Mrs. Beakley hugged her, and Lena found herself hugging her back. Poe had tried to hug her, and she hadn’t allowed it. But this was different.

Before she knew it, she was crying and had turned her face so Mrs. B couldn’t see. Yet, somehow, she knew. She didn’t say anything, just rubbed Lena’s back and let her ride it out. In time, she felt better and found herself coming up with a plan on how to confront Magica. She’d need to fine-tune it with Dewey and Webby, but there might be a chance.

* * *

Doofus Drake didn’t like losing things that belonged to him. Things, people--same difference. As far as he was concerned, Louie Dragon was his. He was going to bring him to heel by any means necessary. For the last few years, he’d eluded him, but he couldn’t remain out of the spotlight forever. Doofus would have his revenge, and then he would have Louie.

Louie was the first person who had dared to say ‘no’ to Doofus. And Doofus did not take that well. At all. So he’d have to teach Louie his place before putting the bracelet on him again. This time, he would imbue it with more powerful charms to prevent him from absconding. It could be done. He would make sure it was, one way or another.

Rubbing his palms with glee, he set about planning on how to lure him in. This was going to be fun, far more fun than having his father carry the gravy in his hands or making his parents dance for his amusement. He’d always wanted a playmate that could never leave. And if he was a little old for playmates, well maybe he’d be able to coax Louie into something else.

However, there was no sense in getting ahead of himself. Not yet. That was the key. Everything would happen in time. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I've said this before, but I really do enjoy writing Goldie. She's a lot of fun.
> 
> Also, for what it's worth, Poe is right. Lena's just suspicious. XD

He couldn’t shake the feeling that Doofus was somewhere doing something creepy. It was ridiculous, but Louie had learned to live with his hunches. It was one of the ways he was able to play the odds and also to predict how things were going to fall out on treasure hunting. Unfortunately, no matter how he played it, he ended up getting hurt in those excursions, at least until he stopped blundering into things.

Right now, he was sitting on the Sunchaser/Cloudslayer (_really, Mom?)_ and cataloging his bruises. Webby and Dewey were acting all honeymoon-ish, which was gross and not what Louie was in the mood for. He ignored them canoodling and glanced over at his older brother, Huey, who was drawing up a list of what they’d found. To the right of him stood Goldie, still wearing that ridiculous tiara she’d gotten from the dragon. She remained the richest woman in the world and looked liable to hold onto that title, though her net worth was close to edging out Scrooge, as she loved to point out.

They were somewhat gross too; they hadn’t fully Bonded, not yet, but they had planned the ceremony. Louie would’ve never pegged her as someone to settle down, and yet, there she was. It was a shame Scrooge had put a stop to his learning grifting from her. Oh, he’d been so angry. It’d almost been worth it just for the look on his face.

In front of him, Della was giving backseat directions to Launchpad about how to fly the plane. Louie rolled his eyes. Ever since his mom had gotten her legs back under her, she’d been rather insistent on being part of the action. He guessed ten years out of it had left her itching for adventure. Louie knew that he wouldn’t have been itching for anything if he went ten years without adventuring. Ten years without money, though, that was another story.

They’d roped Drake Mallard into this and even Uncle Donald, which was surprising because, like his nephew Louie, Donald was not a big fan of death-defying adventures. At least, not the way Uncle Donald had told it. The way their mom told her, Donald had been raring to go on any and all dangerous activities. She’d clearly never met careful, methodical Donald Dragon before. 

Scrooge was helping Huey count and record everything, which left Louie to his own devices. Usually, he wouldn’t mind, except he couldn’t get any service up here, which left nothing to do. His scams mostly ran themselves these days, requiring additional input once in a while to keep them from veering off into unknown territory. He’d been thinking of setting up an MLM, but Ponzi schemes were still illegal, no matter whether you called them “triangle management” or their proper term. The DPD had shut down a clothing outfit like that before Louie could even take appropriate notes.

This almost meant that his mind returned to his current problem, Doofus Drake. He remembered the last close call they’d had and how Dewey had suffered as a result. Dewey was okay now, thanks to Bond healing (also gross) and magical assistance. But Louie hadn’t forgotten how possessive Doofus was or how creepy. Louie shuddered. He never wanted to go near Doofus Drake again. The problem with people like that was that you could never say “no” to them. They wouldn’t take it as an answer.

The other problem was that Doofus could buy and sell Louie if he wanted to. Hell, he could buy and sell all of the triplets. He was rapidly becoming more successful than Mark Talons, which was disturbing in and of itself. If any one drake should have that kind of power, it should be Louie, not Doofus. He did not want Doofus to be a significant player in Dragonburg. The last thing he wanted was for Doofus to gain prominence.

He glanced over at his mom. Like Scrooge, Della played favorites, and it was a no-brainer that Dewey was hers. He resented it, just a little, but he also still had issues trusting her. Dewey had been a mama’s boy without a mama. As for Huey, Huey tended to operate by logic, and ever since Della had proven herself a genuine Junior Woodchuck, he’d been sold. Louie rolled his eyes. His brothers were such saps.

Louie knew he’d never find a Bonded, and he also knew he didn’t need one. He didn’t need to worry about losing half of his fortune to someone if the deal went south. Of course, Bonds were supposed to be immutable and unbreakable. Tell that to their uncle Gladstone, who had gone missing with Magica. Louie hadn’t heard anything from him for a while now. 

No, romance wasn’t in the picture for him, and it never would be. And to be honest, that suited him fine. He loved gold, treasure, and money in that order. (Well, also his family, but that was another story). He didn’t need a Bonded.

There was another problem with Bondeds, too. They were distracting. Louie looked up toward his mom and Launchpad. Drake Mallard was now hanging around them also, like a weird satellite. Ugh. Since McDragon business was big business, there were a lot of rumors surrounding the family. Della was a considerable area of speculation, both her romantic life and now her newfound freedom and mobility. Louie would rather stay out of the limelight for something like that.

He limped over to Dewey and Webby. There was a low buzz around them, indicating telepathy, which broke off as he sat between them. Maybe that’d put an end to their PDA. 

“So, what’s going on?” he asked.

“How long have you been limping?” Huey demanded, turning. Louie groaned. Somehow, he’d gotten his oldest brother’s attention without trying.

“Uh, it’s only when I walk,” Louie said and winced when their mom turned around too. Oh, for Pete’s sake. Did everyone have a vested interest in his welfare? He was about to chew the fat. Who cared if he was limping? He’d recover. He always did.

“Let me see that,” Della said, swooping down from the cockpit with her long hair flying behind her. She landed on her feet--ever since the genie had healed her, she’d been showing off her athletic prowess. Louie wouldn’t have even attempted that jump. He would’ve fallen flat on his face.

Once again, he wondered whether he was anything like his mom. Sometimes it felt like Dewey and Huey had more in common with her than he did.

“I’m fine,” Louie said, feeling defensive. Part of him wanted to be coddled, but he’d never admit to it aloud. Or even to himself. 

“How long have you been limping?” Huey demanded. “Tell me the truth.”

“I don’t remember,” Louie admitted. “It’s been a while. I don’t remember the last time I was walking straight.”

Huey facepalmed. “Mom?”

“Way ahead of you,” Della said. She rushed to produce the first aid kit and inspected its contents. “Hmm, we’re running low on gauze. We can worry about that next trip. Let’s see. I should have the materials for a splint.”

“I’m fine, Mom,” Louie said.

“No, you’re not,” Donald snapped, and Louie groaned. 

“Why can’t you all go back to doing what you were doing and not fussing over me?” Louie demanded.

“Because you’re injured. That’s why,” Huey said, adamant. 

Louie groaned, rolling his eyes. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

Della and Huey inspected his leg and then his ankle. His ankle wasn’t broken, as it turned out, but it was severely sprained. He’d twisted it when he’d taken a running leap off a cliff to avoid being crushed by a runaway boulder. Man, he hated adventuring. Someone always got hurt. And that someone was always him.

His mom put his leg on a splint and told him they’d help him into the manor, where Calente could tend to him. Louie bore all of this with as much patience as he had to spare, which wasn’t very much. When they were finished and finally left him alone, Webby and Dewey came over. Webby glanced at the splint, at him, and then frowned. 

“If you’re about to tell me off for walking around on a busted ankle again--” Louie started warningly.

“I was just thinking about Doofus Drake,” Webby said, and Louie flinched.

“Okay, you know what? Tell me off about the ankle instead. I’d rather do that.”

“Listen to me,” Webby said. “How did he and Black Heron know when to strike? And how did they all attack at the same time? It’s bad enough that Magica struck when she did, but how did they all hit simultaneously, so none of us could come to the other’s aid?”

“I don’t know,” Louie said, sullen, but even as he said it, gears were turning. “I mean, the ceremony wasn’t exactly private. And it got picked up by all the major news outlets. Magica already knew, too. She could’ve told Doofus and Black Heron.”

Except that theory made no sense.

“But how would she know to talk to them?” Webby, pinpointing the exact problem Louie had with the theory. “Their timing was exact.”

“I know,” Louie said, frowning. He stretched his leg and winced at the pain. 

“Magica’s insane and Doofus--” Webby started.

“Is also insane,” Louie interrupted. “And I’m not talking to him to ask. Or going near him. It’s bad enough we share the same city.”

Webby frowned and sent a telepathic message to Dewey. Dewey glared back, sending her one in response. Louie had no idea what they said, but the telepathic buzz was annoying. He hated feeling excluded from conversations, especially when they were talking about him.

“Well?” Louie said.

“Lena’s blocking us out,” Webby said. “I can’t be 100% positive, but I’m pretty sure she’s doing it because she’s up to something with Magica.”

“Like what?” Louie said. While he didn’t unconditionally trust Lena as his brother and Webby did, he was worried about her. Like it or not, Lena had become a part of the family. She was also one of the most vulnerable parts. 

“Like spying on Magica even though we told her not to,” Webby groaned. She gnawed her lower lip. “She also tends to brood.”

“Really?” Louie said sarcastically. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Webby shot him a dirty look. “Anyway...I bet that’s why she didn’t want to come with us.”

“Or maybe she didn’t want to get a random injury as I did,” Louie pointed out. 

“Maybe,” she said, but she sounded unconvinced. 

“Look, Webs,” Louie said and put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure she’s fine.”

“She _feels _fine,” Webby said, still uncertain. “But, I don’t like her messing with that stuff without Violet and me to back her up.”

Violet was another one Louie didn’t entirely trust. After the trap she’d led Lena into, it was hard to. Then again, Webby and even Lena insisted that she’d been under Magica’s compulsions at the time. He guessed he’d have to take their words for it. And for what it was worth, he trusted Webby implicitly. She _was _basically his sister.

“We’ll be home soon,” Huey said, coming up on their conversation.

“Still don’t get why we couldn’t have flown there on our wings,” Dewey grumbled.

“Because you’re not fully healed from what happened,” Huey lectured. “We allowed you to do the Bond flight, but Cal and I want to wait before you fly long-distance.”

Louie rolled his eyes. Huey was studying to become a doctor, and he already had one thing in common with doctors. They could be pompous windbags when they wanted to be. The only problem was that Huey’s handwriting was perfectly legible, and everyone knew that to be a doctor, your writing had to be a scrawl at best.

“How’s the ankle feeling?” Huey said, turning to Louie.

“It’s fine, _Doctor Hubert_,” Louie said, rolling his eyes.

That wasn’t entirely true--if he moved even an inch, it sent pain up his leg, but he wasn’t about to tell Huey that. Unfortunately, the triplet telepathy might do the job for him. It wasn’t as deep as the Bond, from what he’d heard, but it was enough to convey basic thoughts, emotions, and sensations. He wasn’t sure why the others hadn’t noticed it earlier, but then again, they’d been preoccupied. Louie knew that telepathy and mental linkage came because they were part of the same clutch. Della and Donald had it too, but it could be muted by distance. That might explain why Della had suffered on her own for so long before they’d found her.

Louie looked up to see Della still chastising Launchpad. 

“Like this?” Launchpad called and then jerked the plane upward so suddenly that Louie’s stomach turned over. Scrooge looked pale.

“Donnae take advice from that spitfire!” Scrooge chastised. “Yer flyin’ is fine, Launchpad!”

“It’s the landing you can’t stick,” Goldie added and then smiled innocently. “What? I’ve been on enough flights with you lately to know. Besides, he isn’t the only one who can’t stick his landing, if you know what I mean.”

“I can too!” Scrooge said, puffing up indignantly. “I’ve never had any complaints before!”

“Maybe they were too motion sick to complain,” Goldie said with a smirk.

“That’s not true!” he huffed.

“Wait, who else have you been seeing?” Goldie said, and then her eyes alighted with mischief. “Don’t tell me it’s Glomgold. Please. You could roll Glomgold over like a rug.”

“This is so gross,” Louie said. “Old people sex.”

“Ye know I cannae see anyone when I’m half Bonded to ye!” Scrooge retorted.

“Then who else was complaining? Your bed?” Goldie shot back.

Scrooge looked so offended he couldn’t speak for a minute. Goldie smirked, having scored a point off him. She strolled over to him and stroked his cheek.

“Or was it your hand?” she added.

“Stop! Stop!” Louie complained.

“That is way too much information,” Huey added.

“Seriously,” Dewey chimed in.

“How come you haven’t had an egg yet?” Webby said, and everyone turned to stare at her. “What? I mean, if you’ve been half-Bonded for all of this time, I mean…”

“Can we stop with this conversation? Between Mom’s flying tips and you two, I’m gonna hurl,” Louie objected.

“Well, no one said you had to watch,” Goldie purred.

“There’s nothing wrong with my flying!” Della snapped from the cockpit. 

“That’s because you’re not the one doing it,” Donald muttered.

“I heard that, Donald!” Della called.

“Good!” Donald shot back.

“Good!” Della said.

“To think--we missed ten years of that,” Dewey said. “Ten years of Mom and Uncle Donald trying to compete with each other.”

Louie bit his tongue. On the one hand, he wouldn’t have missed it, but on the other, it meant that they’d been ten years without their mom. He looked askance, and it was Webby’s turn to squeeze his shoulder. When he looked up, she offered him a sympathetic smile. He sighed, resting his head against her shoulder.

“Well, that’s weird,” Launchpad said.

“What’s weird?” Louie said with a dreadful feeling in the pit of his stomach. Those were not words you wanted to hear a pilot utter en route.

“That,” Launchpad said with absolutely no explanation. Della leaned over, studying the instrumental panel. 

“That _is _weird,” Della agreed.

“What’s weird?” Louie demanded. 

“That,” Della and Launchpad said just before the Sunchaser shuddered and fell at an alarming speed. “That is weird.”

* * *

Lena felt her stomach lurch and frowned, stretching out of her position. She’d not learned anything useful in the last few hours, save that Magica’s mind was turbulent, and she was also unaware of Lena’s intrusions. She could use that, but she needed help prying more information out. Unfortunately, since one member of Team Magic was out of town, she’d need to look into locating Violet. Violet had a habit of turning up at either the library or the manor, but where she lived, Lena didn’t have the slightest idea. Her number was in Webby’s phone; Lena didn’t have her in hers.

The dizzying lurch was accompanied by the room spinning for a minute. Lena clenched her eyes shut against the sensation and reached out for Webby and Dewey. Now that she’d stopped blocking them out, the feeling grew almost overpowering. She stumbled back to her bed before she fell over.

((What’s going on?)) she asked them.

((I think we were hit by something,)) Dewey said, sounding confused and airsick. She could sympathize. She was getting it from both of them. 

((Hit by what?)) Lena replied.

((I don’t know, but Della and Launchpad saw it a minute before it hit,)) Webby added. ((Or they saw something. We’re not sure what they saw and now’s not the time to ask.))

((We’re gonna have to get back to you later,)) Dewey said and, just before he and Webby were too distracted to reply, she felt a tremendous crash. Granted, Launchpad frequently crashed the plane, but they weren’t that close to Dragonburg. Someone must have hit them. Glomgold? What had they been searching for before they’d been struck down? Lena wracked her brains, but she couldn’t come up with it offhand.

She was torn between wanting to find out what had happened to her Bondeds and her family and pursuing Magica. A knock came at the door, and Lena attempted to stand only to keel over. Her legs were shaking and didn’t support her weight. After a few seconds, in which she had to block out sensations from her Bondeds to gain her bearings, she went to the door. It was Poe, her supposed father.

“What do you want?” she asked sourly. 

“I know where Magica went,” Poe said without preamble.

“And I should trust you why?” Lena countered.

“Lena, I’m not going to hurt you,” Poe stressed.

Lena folded her arms across her chest in response and leveled a look at him that said she wasn’t buying what he was selling. He’d have to find another customer. She didn’t care if he was family. He wasn’t _her _family. The blood of the covenant is thicker than water. Her chosen family was better than her biological one.

“I swear on my life I won’t hurt you,” Poe added. “I know you wanted to know where she is.”

“Yes…” Lena said slowly. “But that you’re offering all of a sudden seems suspicious.”

“That spell that held me in stasis for so long forged a link between my sister and me,” Poe replied. 

“And let me guess? Once I get there, you’ll leave me for Magica to destroy,” Lena said flatly. “I’m not biting. I’ll bring her down myself.”

“You can’t,” Poe objected. “It’s too dangerous. She’s insane--she’ll tear you to shreds.”

“Really?” Lena said sarcastically. “Hadn’t noticed.”

“I can protect you.”

Lena laughed humorlessly. “Like you protected me all those years from her wrath? Save it. I’ll call Vi up.”

“You don’t know where to start looking. I do.”

Be that as it may, Lena would feel a lot more comfortable with someone she at least partially trusted at her back. She thought of Mrs. Beakley’s warnings and pushed her way past her father. Mrs. Beakley was the only other person at home, as far as she knew. With Webby and Dewey in danger, albeit of a form that Lena couldn’t help with, Lena might be able to rely on Mrs. Beakley and Violet to assist her. Mrs. B had several axes to grind against the one-eyed sorceress.

“I’m not saying not to bring back-up,” Poe said hurriedly, trailing after her as she tried to divine where the housekeeper/assassin might have gone. She found Mrs. Beakley arguing with Duckworth in the foyer. The phantasm was pointing to a speck of dirt she’d missed, and Mrs. Beakley had brought up ancient history. Whatever had happened, Lena didn’t care. It had nothing to do with her.

“Hey, Mrs. Beakley?” Lena said and felt weird saying it. Duckworth vanished. “Or do you prefer ‘Abbey Road’? What about ‘Granny’? No, wait, that last one feels too weird.”

Mrs. Beakley frowned, surveying Lena and Poe. “What is it, dear?”

“No preference. Cool.” Lena shrugged. “Dad claims he knows where Magica is and wants me to follow him into what’s obviously a trap. I wanted to know if you wanted to come with us. Or you could keep arguing with the dead butler.”

Mrs. Beakley’s eyes flashed draconic gold, though which aspect of Lena’s remark had gotten to her, Lena didn’t know.

“I’ll come along,” Mrs. Beakley said and then frowned, studying Lena. “Are you all right? You look rather tense.”

“Aside from the whole Aunt Magica’s gone insane and is on the rampage thing?” Lena said and bit her lower lip. Mrs. B was not going to love her for telling her about Webby and Dewey. Holding it back meant that she’d have her assistance, but withholding it wouldn’t gain her any points with the formidable dragon woman. Moreover, with her Bondeds partially blocking her out, she couldn’t say for sure where they’d crashed, only that they had.

With misgivings, Lena told Mrs. Beakley what had happened to the Sunchaser.

Mrs. Beakley’s expression tightened, and she clenched her jaw. She seemed to be assessing what could and couldn’t be done at this point. Finally, she shook her head, and Lena swallowed hard. Perhaps she’d rethought the endeavor and was backing out.

“There’s nothing we can do for them now,” Mrs. Beakley said. “Mr. McDragon has an emergency radio, and everyone has a cell phone. If someone _did _shoot them down--”

“Unless it was an electromagnetic pulse,” Poe interrupted. “That would disable all their electronics.”

“They are not without resources,” Mrs. Beakley said, and her eyes flashed again. “Please don’t imagine the situation to be worse than it already is. In the meanwhile, if you have any clues as to where Magica may be located, there is no need for myself and Lena to be the only ones heading into what very well might be a trap.”

Her eyes narrowed. “There is also the possibility that Magica and Gladstone will flee when we arrive.”

“Not Gladstone,” Lena blurted, and Mrs. Beakley gave her a strange look. Lena’s stomach roiled.

“I didn’t tell Webby and Dewey this, but Magica did something to Gladstone’s mind when she broke the Bond,” Lena said in a rush. “He can’t act on his own anymore.”

“Wonderful,” Mrs. Beakley said sarcastically. “Mr. McDragon will be thrilled to learn that.”

“Magica might leave Gladstone alone if she thinks she’s in danger,” Poe chimed in.

“There’s no way to get her location out of him, is there?” Mrs. Beakley said sternly to Lena.

“There’s no way to get much of anything out of Gladstone,” Lena admitted. 

“First things first,” Mrs. Beakley decided. “We will bring the Dragonburg Police Department into this. If the situation is as dire as you claim, then this needs to be addressed first. We will also alert the DPD to the Sunchaser’s crash. Since you’re so determined to help, Poe, you can do the former, and we’ll see where your loyalties truly lie.”

Mrs. Beakley stepped forward and put an arm around Lena. It felt possessive and affectionate at the same time. The gesture oddly warmed Lena.

“We’ll solve this,” Mrs. Beakley said. “Assuming no other nasty surprises are waiting out there.”

* * *

Commonly, Doofus didn’t get involved in enterprises such as FOWL. His interests were singular and didn’t tend to run toward anything remotely wasteful that didn’t directly benefit him. However, he’d found FOWL useful, at least in terms of coordinating an attack against Webby that would indirectly affect Louie. Magica de Spell had been tangentially part of FOWL too, which was how he’d managed to line everything up. 

Unfortunately, the devil wanted his pound of flesh. Doofus had a mission from FOWL before he could pursue Louie again. This time, however, he thought he might play along. He waited in the forest as the Sunchaser’s occupants stumbled around and out of the plane. This would be a piece of cake.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written before Moonvasion and probably reflects that.
> 
> I fully intend to rewrite how Lunaris was defeated in this fic, because man, that was just...stupid.

“So, we’re stranded in the middle of nowhere, with a dead plane and dead electronics,” Louie commented. Launchpad and Della had exited to see whether the plane could be coaxed back to life. In the meanwhile, Louie stayed put. He didn’t want to put any weight on his sprained ankle, which could become a broken ankle with pressure; he was convinced. 

Huey and Webby had gone to scout ahead, and Scrooge was attempting to no avail to contact the authorities. Goldie wasn’t helping, but then again, Louie hadn’t expected her to. He leaned back in his seat and gritted his teeth. His ankle was killing him, despite the splint. 

Dewey sat beside him with his legs folded beneath him and his hands on his lap. “I don’t get it.”

“What’s there to get? We got hit, we crashed, and now we’re stuck in the middle of nowhere,” Louie retorted.

“Not that,” Dewey said. “Why would Lena go after Magica when she knows that Magica wants her dead?”

“Why does Lena do anything?” Louie said, shrugging. He hadn’t meant it to be so acerbic, and after it came out, he winced at the tone. Dewey glared. In the past, his brother had been neutral, moving toward positive on Lena. Now, as one of his Bondeds, he was protective over her. Louie shouldn’t have said what he had. It was written all over Dewey’s face.

He hastily backtracked. “I’m just saying--Lena doesn’t always consider others when she does stuff. I wasn’t expecting her to Bond with you and Webby. I mean, she’s always had a thing for Webby. That’s been pretty evident to everyone who wasn’t you and Webby.

“But Lena never struck me as someone who wanted people to get that close.”

In that manner, she was similar to him. Lena had a tough exterior to conceal all the pain and trauma inflicted on her. It ought to have made them kindred spirits, but it didn’t. Louie guessed he trusted Lena, in that Dewey and Webby did, but he was leery of her. She’d almost gotten Webby and Mrs. Beakley killed through Magica.

Dewey’s shoulders sank. “I know, but…”

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Louie said, feeling no such thing but knowing his older brother would fall for it. “She’s probably out there right now living it up with Mrs. Bee and her father.”

“Lena doesn’t trust her father…” Dewey said slowly. He hugged his knees. “I don’t trust him either.”

“Okay, great, that makes two of you, then,” Louie said. He didn’t mean to brush aside his concerns, but the fact that someone had shot them out of the sky left him rattled. Glomgold wanted Scrooge out of the way, sometimes going so far as to attempt to kill him, but he didn’t usually aim for Scrooge’s family. Mark Talons hated Scrooge, but that was in a general attack on Gizmodragon, not on Scrooge himself. 

And Doofus Drake would have had no compunctions about collateral damage. Louie’s stomach clenched painfully and he wished his mom wasn’t busy with Launchpad. He felt sick. As it was, they were sitting ducks. 

“What is your problem?” Dewey snapped.

“My problem, dear Dewford, is that I have a psychotic rich kid coming after me, and he might be after you too,” Louie snapped. “My _problem _is that I don’t have time for your relationship issues when we could be being hunted right now!”

“You mean _you _could be hunted,” Dewey said, and Louie smacked him upside the head.

“Yes, I mean me!” Louie retorted. “Don’t you care? Doofus almost took out your tail the last time, and that was to get my attention. He could’ve killed us if Launchpad wasn’t an expert at crashing and kept us from breaking our necks on the descent.”

He shuddered. “He said he’s never hunted the most dangerous game--man. That’s _us_.”

“What does he want with you, anyway?” Dewey asked. “I mean, yeah, you rejected his offer of friendship, and he tried to possess you. But he has a weird grudge.”

“I don’t know, man,” Louie said and pulled his hoodie up over his face. “It’s like this weird, sick obsession with me, and it’s freaking me out.”

“Maybe it’s not Doofus,” Dewey reasoned, and Louie, through narrowed vision thanks to the hoodie being pulled over his head, nonetheless stared at him.

“Who else do we know that has access to an EMP?” 

“Uh, well, the Beagle Boys...but, no, that doesn’t make sense.”

“They wouldn’t even know how to _work _an EMP.”

“Glomgold might---, and he did almost drown Webby a few years back.”

They shuddered, and although Louie didn’t know what was being said, he heard the low buzz of telepathy between Dewey and Webby. His brother looked somber, and Louie felt guilty, even though he wasn’t the one who’d brought Glomgold up. Remembering rescuing her from the water and pulling her up before she drowned was not exactly something he wanted to revisit.

“Yeah, but his vendettas are against Scrooge personally. Not us,” Louie said, but even as he said it, he wondered if it was true. He’d previously thought that Webby was the exception to the rule, but maybe there was no rule. Maybe Glomgold wanted to do in Scrooge’s whole family. Was that really less plausible than Doofus gunning for Louie?

“That could change,” Dewey said, as if sensing Louie’s train of thought. That happened sometimes. “And we haven’t heard from or seen Glomgold in a really long time. Not since before this whole thing with Lena started.”

“What if it’s both of them?” Louie said, thoroughly chilled. “What if Glomgold had the tech and Doofus paid him to bring the plane down? What if there’s more than that? Whatever happened to Don Karnage? And the other villains we pissed off?”

“Okay, one, Don Karnage is still a sky pirate as far as I know, and two…” Dewey paused.

“Well?” Louie prodded.

“Two, I can’t think of a good argument for the first part of what you just said.”

“That’s because it’s possible, isn’t it?” Louie pressed. Without Huey to act as the voice of reason, Louie could feel his anxiety creeping in. (_“What’s wrong with you?” “Nothing. I’m just lovably lazy.”_) 

“I’m not saying it is,” Dewey said, and Louie gave him a dirty look.

“Okay, I kinda am. But you don’t know for sure,” Dewey protested.

Louie sprang to his feet and fell over. He cursed loudly, which, of course, got everyone’s attention. For a few seconds, Goldie even looked concerned. She moved over to him, as did Scrooge. Della and Launchpad were outside the Sunchaser now and couldn’t hear him. 

“What’s the matter, kid? Can’t stand on your own two feet?” Goldie commented. No, it wasn’t his imagination. Shelooked concerned. Oh, boy. Things were worse than he thought if Goldie O’Gilt gave a damn about him.

“Why dinnae ye say somethin’, lad?” Scrooge demanded. “Yer mom thought it was just a sprain.”

“So did I!” Louie protested. Pain rocketed up his leg, and he screamed, hugging his leg. Goldie knelt beside him, and her fingers sparkled. In a distant part of his mind, he realized he didn’t know what Goldie’s powers were. He’d always assumed it had something to do with gold and minerals because she was Scrooge’s counterpart. But he’d never asked because it hadn’t concerned him.

“What are you doing?” Dewey asked, cautious.

“Stand back,” Goldie commanded. “I can heal a little bit. Not much, but enough that you should be able to walk around on that thing.”

“And you didn’t mention this before because?” Louie snapped. His pain was making him waspish. 

“It didn’t seem important. Plus, healing takes a lot out of me,” Goldie said and shrugged. “It’s not my main power, more like a secondary one.”

“So, why waste your magic on me?” Louie snapped. “Shouldn’t you save it for yourself?”

“And have you slow us down while we go looking for help? Not a chance,” Goldie said. Beneath her words, however, he sensed another meaning. She didn’t want him to suffer. He could almost see what Scrooge saw in her. Almost. Maybe their previous partnership had meant more to her than she had said.

Closing her eyes, Goldie focused and pressed her fingertips into Louie’s ankle. Louie, likewise closing his eyes in case he saw something unpleasant, expected it to hurt like mad, but instead, warmth blossomed. It felt like he was stepping into a nice, hot bath. At once, the pain evaporated, and he sighed, finally able to breathe easier. He opened his eyes and looked up at her. Goldie smiled, one without artifice for once.

“Better?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said and then smiled back. “Thanks.”

Goldie snorted. “Don’t get used to it.”

She straightened, and Scrooge smiled at her. She glowered at him, but Louie could tell it was bluster.

“Don’t you start in on me,” she warned Scrooge.

The moment didn’t last long. Della, Launchpad, Huey, and Webby stepped back into the Sunchaser. The moment they did, Louie knew it was bad news. Everyone looked so serious it couldn’t be anything but bad news.

“Well?” Louie said when no one spoke. “What is it?”

“It was an EMP that hit us,” Della said. 

“And we ran into some natives. We thought they were gonna help us out,” Launchpad continued.

“But?” Louie pressed. He didn’t like how they were stretching this story out. The more they did, the more anxious he grew. Whatever they had to say, he was simultaneously in need of it and fearing it.

“But this is the same place where I crashed the last time,” Della said and blanched. “They didn’t help. They held me captive for ten years.”

“Ye dinnae tell me that!” Scrooge snapped. 

“To be honest, I was trying to forget,” Della admitted. “One of the natives helped me escape. But she was killed for it.”

“How do you know that if you escaped?” Louie asked. This situation was getting better and better.

“Because I told her,” a strong male voice announced, and everyone whirled. Webby and Della stood protectively in front of everyone as if they were protecting the lot of them. The male figure materialized, a humanoid with green scales on his face and a captain’s helmet. To have scales in humanoid form meant bad magic--it meant magical corruption, too. It was what Magica de Spell had after dabbling in the dark arts.

“As I will tell you all,” the green dragon continued. “I am Commander Lunaris, and you are all my prisoners.”

He smiled coldly. Louie took in his military-style outfit, emerald green to match his scales with gold on the edges. He had badges pinned that no doubt looked authentic, but Louie was willing to call b.s. on that. Not that it mattered. After Lunaris stepped aside, a battalion of humanoid dragons entered after him. Louie counted six, all muscular and all bearing their tails in humanoid form. 

It was Lunaris and his six grunts versus Dewey, Webby, Della, Launchpad, Scrooge, Goldie, and Huey. Louie wasn’t counting himself in there because he was not a fighter, not in the slightest. The odds were even; maybe they could take them.

Then the guns came up, and Louie felt his stomach churn again quite painfully.

Or not. 

“We’ll hold you until we receive our proper pay-off from Doofus Drake,” Lunaris continued. “Then, we’ll let one of you go.”

He smiled coldly. “Llewellyn Dragon.”

“How do you know my name? Not cool,” Louie said. He had blanched. How much information had Lunaris and his cronies gathered on the McDragon and Dragon family? Had they known about them before Della had crash-landed?

“Why, you’re famous,” Lunaris said and grinned ruthlessly. “For being Scrooge McDragon’s family. And the only way to take down Scrooge is through the weakest link.”

His smile faded. “Unfortunately, as I discovered earlier, there was a traitor in our midst. Penumbra has been dealt with accordingly. There will be no other such mistakes in the future.”

He snapped his fingers. “Take them. Now.”

Too many guns. While he had the utmost confidence in Webby to dispatch creeps normally, arms were another story entirely. Man, he was _so _glad Goldie had healed him just in time to be marched into a cell before being handed over to his worst enemy. 

* * *

They arrived at an empty flat. It looked like anything that hadn’t been bolted down was gone. It’d been on the tip of Lena’s tongue to snap at Poe for this, but even in Magica’s absence, that pervasive sense of wrongness echoed. The dark magic lingered, making her shudder and squeeze her necklace. She couldn’t hurt Lena now. She couldn’t touch her. Lena repeated this to herself, but no matter how many times she did, she couldn’t bring herself to believe it.

“Well, this is disappointing but hardly surprising,” Mrs. Beakley said primly. She put a hand on Lena’s shoulder and squeezed. 

“I was so sure she was here,” Poe said. “I’m sorry, Lena, Mrs. Beakley. This is a dead-end.”

“It...it might not be…” Lena admitted. “I can track her using magic, but to do that, I’d need to take off the necklace.”

And leave herself vulnerable to a counterattack. Moreover, with Webby and Dewey already imperiled, she risked distracting them at a crucial moment. Magica had never attacked her after they were fully Bonded. She didn’t know what would happen if Magica’s mental assault struck Webby and Dewey too. Would it be weakened? Or stronger because now there were three people to share in it? Lena tasted bile in the back and shuddered.

“No,” Mrs. Beakley snapped. “Absolutely not.”

“I might be able to protect her,” Poe said, and Lena glared.

“Just like you did in the past?” she spat. “You don’t have a magical bone in your body. The only thing you can do is watch me suffer.”

“I can protect you,” he protested.

“How?” Lena said witheringly. “And if you could do that, then why the hell didn’t you do it before?”

“I wasn’t a dragon before,” he pointed out. “I didn’t have access to my magic.”

Lena rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest. She didn’t believe him. As far as she was concerned, he was full of shit. If he’d wanted to help her, he didn’t need magic. He could’ve just divebombed Magica when she was attacking Lena. Some father he was. Lena curled inward on herself as if to shield from future pain. Mrs. Beakley hugged her tightly, fiercely, and Lena’s throat constricted.

“If you don’t protect her, I swear I will throw you at Magica de Spell myself,” Mrs. Beakley snarled. Lena smiled.

“Be careful, dear,” Mrs. Beakley said, and Lena nodded. Slipping the necklace off her neck already felt like removing crucial armor while someone readied their arrows against her. The Sword of Damocles dropped a few inches closer to her head.

She closed her eyes and crashed onto a couch. Wrinkling her nose at the scent, she pushed herself back up. She didn’t want to think about that couch had its own stank. She shuddered.

With the necklace clutched in her right hand, she extended her magical senses toward her aunt. She sank into herself and then into the ley lines. She became aware of Webby and Dewey and blocked them out. At the moment, they would be nothing but distractions. Centering herself, she edged her way toward the darkness that eclipsed all other magical sources in the vicinity. Compared to the tranquil ley line, which was like a slowly flowing river, Magica’s malevolence and evil boomed and crackled like a thunderstorm. Pain radiated out of it too, and Lena wondered briefly whether it was Magica’s or Gladstone’s. Regret simmered there, also, and if Magica had been in her right mind, she would have prevented herself from projecting her emotions. Magica was past the point of no return, however.

Now more than ever, she needed to be taken down. She was a danger to herself, Gladstone, and the world at large. 

Figuring out where her aunt was meant venturing into that maelstrom and Lena would be lying if she said that the thought didn’t terrify her. She and Magica were psychically linked, which meant that the instant she arrived on the periphery, her aunt might be notified. She said “might” because there was a chance that her aunt was so insane she might not recognize the intrusion for what it was. Nothing about her aunt made any sense anymore.

She crept her way through the barriers, which were ramshackle and shattered at her movements. Magica would typically have had guards up to prevent someone from launching a sneak attack or penetrating her inner defenses. She’d never want to be seen as vulnerable. 

In the miasma, she sensed Gladstone, and his attention turned toward her. She was surprised he wasn’t crazy like Magica, although give that time. It was possible, if not highly probable.

((Lena?)) 

Lena froze, stunned. Gladstone had never spoken mind to mind to her before. She struggled to think of an instance when they’d spoken face to face, either. Desperation poured through her, but it was at a remove. Gladstone. Gladstone was seizing at any chance he could get to escape. 

Oh, no. Oh, _no_. He couldn’t possibly do what she was thinking of. Dread coiled in her stomach, and she reached out for Mrs. Beakley, except she’d become untethered from her body. She was only aware of the magical abyss in which she found herself.

She tried to scream for help, but couldn’t open her mouth.

((Stay back,)) Lena warned. ((You made your choices.))

((I didn’t know she’d do this,)) Gladstone protested. ((You have to save me.))

((Not like this,)) she hissed. Her heart pounded, and she thought to lower her barriers between herself and her Bondeds. She couldn’t remember how to do that. Panic rushed through her. 

_Webby…_

((It’s the only way they’ll listen to me,)) Gladstone protested. ((The only way I can speak is through you.))

((_No.))_

((It won’t hurt,)) he promised. 

“Have you found her?” 

The words echoed strangely, and she heard Mrs. Beakley at a distance. Still, she heard her, which might be enough for her to struggle her way back without Gladstone hitching a ride too. 

“You said you’d protect her!” 

Mrs. Beakley was rounding on Poe, and Lena wanted to laugh. Poe was useless. He’d never defended her before. Why should now be any different?

((Lena, you have to,)) Gladstone said. He was poised to throw himself at her, and Lena screamed, not sure that it’d even escaped her lips. 

((No, I don’t! Get away from me!)) 

Gladstone reared and flung himself at her consciousness. 

Someone slapped her hard, and her cheek stung. Her eyes flew open, and she gasped, shaking. Mrs. Beakley took the necklace from her suddenly nerveless fingers and dropped it around her neck. At some point, Lena had crashed to her knees, and Mrs. Beakley was in front of her. 

“What _happened_?” Mrs. Beakley demanded. Unable to speak, Lena shook her head, and Mrs. Beakley hugged her. Lena latched onto her. This woman had gone to bat for her and Webby. She cared about her. The close call had terrified Lena. Gladstone had been inches away from possessing her. It was bad enough what Magica had done, but she’d never gone so far as to take over her body. 

Mrs. Beakley rubbed her back and waited until Lena had calmed sufficiently to speak. 

“You’re useless!” she spat at Poe. “Gladstone almost jumped me and tried to seize control of my body! And you did nothing! Did you even consider the possibility? Did you even _notice_?”

“Slow down,” Mrs. Beakley instructed. “What happened?”

Lena pulled away from Mrs. Beakley and shivered uncontrollably. “I found Magica’s presence on the astral plane, but not in the real world. Gladstone pleaded with me to help, and when I didn’t react fast enough, he tried to throw himself at me. Magica’s insane and Gladstone’s not far behind.”

Her lips were trembling, and she wanted to curl into a ball and sob. She was okay. She was okay. Mrs. Beakley had saved her, as unlikely as that might have seemed in the past. Mrs. Beakley stopped rubbing her back and stroked her hair, including that little pink lock that Webby loved. Lena drew short, staggered breaths. 

“We’re not doing that again,” Mrs. Beakley said in a low, warning voice. “The next time you think Magica de Spell is lurking, you will bring her in yourself, Poe. I am not putting my family at risk for a fool’s errand.”

“Lena, I’m so sorry,” Poe said and swallowed hard. “I truly am. This was my first test as your father, and I failed.”

“Yes, you did,” she spat. 

“We’re leaving,” Mrs. Beakley snapped. “You can stay if you wish, Poe, but I’ve had enough chasing after shadows.”

Mrs. Beakley had to steady Lena because her knees threatened to buckle at her. The close encounter still rattled her. She lowered her barriers to Dewey and Webby now that she remembered how.

((_Lena!_)) Webby gasped. ((What have you been doing?))

((Nothing. Never mind,)) Lena said. ((What happened after the plane crashed?))

((So, it turns out there’s a whole forest civilization of dark dragons where Mom last crashed, and they’ve had a grudge against Uncle Scrooge since before we were born,)) Dewey interjected. ((And they’re holding us captive. Also, they already killed one of their guards for showing us leniency in the past.))

((_What_?)) Lena gasped, ready to go to bat for them. Strength flooded her, and she hissed, balling her fists. 

“Lena?” Mrs. Beakley queried, sounding alarmed.

((So, yeah, we’re being held as prisoners until Doofus comes for Louie and then Lunaris wants to execute us to teach Uncle Scrooge a lesson,)) Dewey said. ((But, don’t worry, we’ve got a plan.))

((Oh, yeah, that’scomforting,)) Lena said sarcastically. ((What’s your plan? Wait, don’t tell me. Let me guess. Something stupid.))

((It’s not stupid,)) Dewey said and then hesitated. ((Okay, maybe it’s a little stupid. But it should work.))

((Do I want to know what it is?)) Lena said.

“Lena, what’s going on?” Mrs. Beakley demanded. Lena paused, wondering how the old British dragon would take it. Not well would be Lena’s guess.

((Uh…)) Dewey grimaced. ((Maybe not.))

((Do you need us to rescue you?)) Lena snapped.

((That’d be kinda hard,)) Webby said. ((They’ve been trained to shoot anything in flight on sight.))

Lena groaned, facepalming. ((I’ll figure it out. My plan can’t be anywhere near as stupid as Dewey’s.))

((Hey,)) Dewey protested. ((I told you, I’ve got it under control.))

Webby groaned, which was a sure sign Lena was not going to like what was coming next. Swallowing hard, Lena turned to Mrs. Beakley and explained everything that her Bondeds had told her. 

“You,” Mrs. Beakley snapped, rounding on Poe. “You have one more chance to prove yourself. Help us rescue Lena’s Bonded, and I’ll see about not throwing you out on your rear.”

Her eyes flashed. “Better start flying toward the forests.”

When Poe demurred, Mrs. Beakley snarled, “Now.”

Poe transformed into a dragon (he was all black, and it glittered under the sun after they left the flat) and took off into the skies. Lena’s heart was in her throat, and her hands shook. What would have happened to Dewey and Webby if Gladstone had taken control? Never mind her, what about them? 

“Let’s go home,” Mrs. Beakley said, and her eyes flashed. Her stance had become offensive. “We need to plan a battle.”

* * *

Gladstone was disappointed. He hadn’t expected to fail so spectacularly. Magica hadn’t noticed Lena’s intrusion. Of course, Magica was oblivious to anything but her plotting now. It was a blessing and a curse.

He needed to find a new way to get attention, but how? Would Lena convey his message to the others? Would they come to get him? Or was he on his own here? With Magica siphoning off his good luck, he had none to spare for himself, and, for once, he thought he might understand how Donald felt. It sucked to be unlucky. Like, really sucked.

And he had a feeling his luck wasn’t about to change any time soon. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a while since I updated this. Almost two weeks, in fact. Oops. Also, after the finale, I was too fond of Penumbra to kill her off.

“I can’t believe they killed Penny,” Della said, shaking her head. 

“We have no proof they killed her beyond Commander Lunaris’s word,” Huey soothed, trying to calm his mother down. “Maybe she’s still alive.”

“Maybe,” Della said, but she sounded doubtful. She was lying on the floor in their cell and hugging her knees. Being here was traumatic for her, and Dewey was also doing his utmost to comfort her. Webby was sitting on the floor and reaching out to Lena, which left Louie trying to figure out how he could escape this before running into Doofus Drake. 

“If she’s around, she’s probably keeping a low profile,” Huey reasoned.

“Isn’t anyone concerned about the fact that a crazy kid with too much money and no morals orchestrated this to kidnap me?” Louie exclaimed, sick of how everyone seemed to be ignoring it.

“We _are _concerned, honey,” Della rushed to reassure Louie and reached out to him. He scooted closer to her, and she pulled him into her arms. She was stroking his hair, but he wasn’t sure who she was trying to soothe—him or her.

“But that cannae be their whole objective,” Scrooge objected. “They wouldnae have kidnapped all of us if it were just about you.”

Yeah, okay, that was a good point. Louie had noticed it, but he was hoping that if he didn’t pay attention to it, it would go away. Unfortunately, that never worked. If anything, it exacerbated the problem.

“Did you have unfinished business with them?” Huey asked their mother. Della frowned, stroking Louie’s hair in a swirling motion that he usually would’ve hated, but somehow seemed reassuring right now. He wasn’t sure why or how, but it did.

“They were looking for Uncle Scrooge’s magic hoard so they could seize on troll of dark magical amulets,” Della recalled. “But I haven’t seen or heard from them in years. I thought they would’ve given up by now.”

“Is that why they held you captive?” Dewey asked.

“It took a while to gain their trust,” Della admitted. “and then Lunaris turned them all against me. They were doing experiments to see if I could fly again with my lower body paralyzed, but I couldn’t shapeshift that way.”

Launchpad shifted from where he was atop one of the top bunks, hopped down, and squeezed her hand reassuringly. Launchpad might be an idiot, but he was a good man.

“They experimented on you?!” Scrooge roared.

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” Della said.

“Well, this just keeps getting better and better,” Louie muttered.

“It was years ago. I’m sure they don’t remember. And if they do, I’m sure they're not still angry at me.”

“Wanna bet?” Louie muttered.

“Is that how they knew about us?” Dewey asked, and, slowly and reluctantly, Della nodded. 

“I told them stories, so I didn’t feel so lonely,” she admitted. “And so helpless.”

Louie’s guilt swarmed back. Of course, his mom had felt helpless. She’d been paralyzed from the waist down, with no communication equipment, and no way to contact anyone for help. Add to that a hostile society, and it was a surprise that she had made it out entirely sane. 

“So do they think they’re gonna shake Uncle Scrooge down for information on the magical amulets?” Dewey asked, frowning.

“That won’t happen,” Scrooge said confidently. “I’m not smarter than the smarties and tougher than the toughies for nothing.”

A servant came and deposited food trays for them. It looked unappealing, but Louie didn’t know when they might eat again. Della called out to the dragon, and when their eyes met, recognition lit Della’s eyes. She opened her mouth, and, acting on instinct, Louie covered it before her exclamation could escape.

“Penny!” Della said, muffled.

Penumbra shook her head (if it was her and not someone who looked like her). What was unusual about her was that she didn’t have scales on her face, and while she had a tail in humanoid form, it was small and looked like it had been chopped in half. Della’s excitement faded as she took her old friend in.

“What did they do to you?” Della asked once Louie had removed his hand. 

“Nothing I didn’t escape from,” Penumbra said quickly. “I’ll see if I can get you out, okay? Not everyone supports Lunaris.”

“How did you escape? The last time I saw you, they were planning to execute you,” Della whispered.

“I’m sure Lunaris still wants that,” Penumbra said, and her eyes flashed draconic gold with hatred. “But he’s not going to get it.

“Enough talking. The walls might have ears. They definitely have eyes.”

She pointed upward toward security cameras attached to the ceiling. Penumbra’s head was covered in a hood, which concealed her features. Her white hair fell to her shoulders. Louie guessed she must’ve grown it out because she still had a little stubble on her scalp from what he could see.

“I’ll be back,” Penumbra promised.

She fled, but the others looked hopeful. Webby, however, was the sole exception. Her brow creased, and she looked concerned instead. Louie frowned in her direction, and whatever Webby had been doing, ostensibly trying to contact Lena, she stopped. 

“I can’t get ahold of Lena,” Webby said. “She won’t respond to me. All I can feel is that she’s rattled, but not what it’s about. It’s like she’s trying to block me out.”

She glanced imploringly toward Dewey. “Are you having the same problem?”

“What? Oh,” he said and flushed. Dewey’s mind had been elsewhere. “I can try. Gimme a sec.”

After a minute, Dewey’s attention returned to them. “She didn’t block me out, but she’s distracted. She wouldn’t respond when I tried talking to her.”

“Can you tell me what happened?” Webby asked, exasperated. “Or at least why she’s rattled?”

Dewey shook his head. “Something to do with Poe and Gladstone. But I dunno what.”

“I hope Gladstone’s all right,” Della said quietly. “I know he’s supposed to be the personification of good luck, but he certainly had the bad luck to fall in with Magica de Spell.”

“Yeah...that’s part of it too…” Dewey said slowly, and Webby looked sharply at him.

“What’s part of it?” she demanded.

“I don’t know! It’s not like I had a lot of time to tell what was happening,” he protested. “You try talking to her and see if she makes any sense.”

“I would, but she blocked me out,” Webby huffed. 

“Then clearly she’s afraid of upsetting you,” Huey said. 

“And clearly she’s doing something she knows that will upset you,” Louie added. She must’ve been in danger. Gee, he wondered what that was like. Louie had his own problems to deal with.

What, exactly, was Doofus’s deal with him? Why was he so determined to “own” him? It was creepy as it was, but Louie sensed there was something more, and that fell under the realm of “things he didn’t want to think about.” There were always rumors about dark dragons whose possessiveness prevented the other dragon from seeking any other mate. In rare instances, that became a Bond. In most cases, it was a disturbing stalker situation where one mate rendered all rivals either dead or incapacitated. Louie shuddered.

“What’s up?” Della queried softly, putting an arm about her son’s shoulders and pulling him into her.

“You’ve never met Doofus,” Louie protested. “You don’t know.”

“I do,” Goldie said, sitting near them. Della looked up at her, and, to Louie’s shock, there was immense dislike on his mother’s face.

“You know, I am going to be part of the family. You might want to start getting used to me,” Goldie purred.

“Maybe I will when you stop backstabbing my uncle,” Della snapped. She pulled Louie closer as if Goldie’s treachery were contagious, and she didn’t want to risk Louie’s exposure. Little did she know.

“Please. I can’t do that anymore with the Bond anyway,” Goldie said and then shrugged. “It got old. And since you asked--”

“I didn’t ask,” Della snarled.

“Since you asked,” Goldie repeated, “I’ve had the misfortune of meeting and then being held hostage by Doofus Drake. I have no desire ever to be his ‘Meemaw’ again.”

“I’d rather be stuck inside a glass container than whatever Doofus has in store for me,” Louie objected.

“You have to outwit him,” Goldie said, implacable. “Find out what he wants and then scam him out of it.”

“That’s terrible advice,” Scrooge commented, joining them. 

“It is not,” Goldie huffed. “If the boy continues to be afraid of him, he’ll never use his natural talents.”

“What? For grifting?” Scrooge objected.

“They’re gonna be a while,” Della said in an undertone and led Louie away from the now squabbling couple. She smoothed his hair back and then hugged him impulsively. He hugged her back. It’d taken a while for him to get used to having a mom, and he knew that sometimes, Della remembered what it was like to feel so alone and wanted to remind herself that she wasn’t anymore. He understood that.

“I hate to say it, but Goldie’s got a point,” Della said and looked pained. “And I really hate to say it. But you can’t let him control you, and if you’re afraid of him, that’s what’s going to happen.”

“I know, but...you saw what he did to Dewey,” Louie protested. “And this is way more than what happened when we were kids. He has this sick obsession with me. It’s like--you know those stories about wild dragons that kill anyone anywhere near their intended mates?”

“Yes…” Della said. “Oh, honey, that’s not going to happen to you.”

Her eyes blazed draconic gold. “Because I’m not letting them take you from me. I’ll fight tooth and nail for you if I have to. No one hurts my babies.”

Louie smiled. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Ugh,” Della said, and he followed her gaze over to Scrooge and Goldie. “Why does everything with them always feel like foreplay?”

“Gross,” Louie groused.

“It does!” Della protested. “You should’ve seen them when Donald and I were kids if you want to talk about disgusting.”

“I’d rather not think about it, thanks,” he replied, grimacing. 

“Damn it!” Webby said, which drew Louie’s attention away from his mother. Webby rarely cursed. It was like she was allergic to it. Or it was illegal for her to swear. He wasn’t sure which, but it always disturbed him to hear even the mildest of oaths from her.

“Webby?” Dewey ventured.

“She did exactly what I told her not to do,” Webby said, balling her fists and breathing hard. “She went into Magica’s lair.”

“Are you sure?” Della asked.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Webby said, and her anger faded, replaced by despondency. He would rather have had the rage.

“How do you know?” Dewey asked. It was a valid question, especially if Lena was blocking her out. Webby looked grim, her jaw clenched tightly. 

“Because Granny just told me. And before you ask, it’s because she went with her.”

“Maybe we should focus on what we can do here and not what’s going on elsewhere,” Della suggested quietly. “You’ll only upset yourselves.”

“Mom’s right,” Louie added. “We need a plan.”

Webby frowned but reluctantly nodded. She saw the wisdom in it. 

“And I think Penny might be an important part of it, once we find out how deep her connections go,” Della added.

“How, exactly, do ye know Penumbra?” Scrooge asked, breaking off his argument with Goldie. Goldie, not one to be ignored, stepped closer to him until her chest brushed against his. That was sufficiently distracting, and Louie rolled his eyes.

“We were roommates,” Della said. “Well, she was assigned to watch over me, but she was the only guard who did it, so we kinda became roommates? Sort of? She was my only friend here.”

“She’s not evil like the others,” Huey remarked.

“No...Penny’s…” Della hesitated. “I don’t know what her alignment is.”

“Probably neutral,” Louie said. “It has to be. If she’s not light, then she could only be around you if she’s neutral. Your light would drive evil people insane, Mom.”

Della smiled. “I’ll take that as a compliment, Louie.”

“But how do ye know ye can trust her after all of this time?” Scrooge remarked. “It’s a flimsy thing to stack your hopes on.”

“Because I know Penny,” Della said firmly. “And if I can trust her, then so can you.”

Louie noticed that sometimes, his mom made decisions based on her gut and not logic. She had that in common with Dewey. And sometimes, her choices didn’t pan out. This time, however, Louie had to hope it would. Because if Penumbra was a significant part of Della’s plan, they had to be able to trust Della’s instincts. 

Except Della’s instincts had gotten her stranded here for ten years, so maybe she wasn’t the best judge.

* * *

Lena knew Webby would be pissed at her, so what she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her, right? Okay, she knew it didn’t work that way. Moreover, she knew that what Webby didn’t know, she’d be incensed to learn Lena had been concealing from her. She had told herself she was going to poke around and see if she could figure out where Aunt Magica had holed herself up. She was following Poe’s lead, although she didn’t trust her father as far as she could throw him. But, hey, at least Mrs. Beakley hadn’t bailed on them. They might’ve been without back-up otherwise, but Lena figured Webby’s grandmother was worth at least five ordinary people.

Unfortunately, to facilitate locating Magica, she’d had to remove her amulet. She kept the one that channeled her powers, but the one Cal had given her, that protected her from her aunt’s rage, she’d folded into her pocket. Maybe she should’ve asked Violet to help too, but she still didn’t entirely trust that girl. Perhaps it was a force of habit.

When Dewey had contacted her, she’d brushed him off. Dewey, however, was not as astute as Webby. She was going to have hell to pay when she talked to her wife next. She rather thought Webby had enough on her plate without Lena adding to it.

Their search led them to the old subway tracks beneath Dragonburg. It was dank and musty down here, and Lena wrinkled her nose. She could sense her aunt’s magical signature, albeit corrupted, and she proceeded slowly. She was taking the lead, although she knew Mrs. Beakley disapproved. Poe did too, but his opinion didn’t matter.

“We are going to locate her, and then we are going to leave,” Mrs. Beakley warned. “We are not going to engage her. Do you understand, Lena?”

“Yes,” Lena said, rolling her eyes, though she was secretly pleased that Mrs. Beakley cared so much for her that she’d worry about her. Mrs. Beakley moved forward and squeezed Lena’s shoulder. 

“I thought you wanted me to do this on my own,” Poe remarked.

“You claimed you had a psychic link to my aunt,” Lena sneered. “You don’t. Fail.”

“Your psychic link could kill you,” Poe warned.

“That’s a chance I’m willing to take,” Lena said, nonchalant. Mrs. Beakley turned her gaze upon her, and Lena winced. 

“One of these days, we are going to have a long conversation about your fatalism, young lady,” Mrs. Beakley muttered.

“Yay,” Lena said. “Can’t wait.”

They moved down the tunnel, and Lena frowned, peering into what looked like an old office. Surely her aunt wouldn’t have holed up here? It seemed cramped and unpleasant. Her heart pounded, and fear lined her mouth. She was shaking, and she told herself she wasn’t afraid of Magica. That Magica couldn’t hurt her if she didn’t let her. 

“Is she in there?” Mrs. Beakley queried, her lips pressed against Lean’s cheek so that she wasn’t overheard. 

Lena nodded. She could taste her heartbeat too. 

Mrs. Beakley grabbed Poe and shoved him in that direction. She also plucked Lena’s necklace out of her pocket and put it back around her neck. 

“What I don’t get is why she hasn’t noticed us yet if that’s where she is…” Lena murmured. Without her necklace, her sense of Magica was muted. It wasn’t entirely gone, not this close, but it was much suppressed.

“She didn’t notice you earlier, right?” Poe called back. Mrs. Beakley smacked him hard to shut him up.

“No...but...she’s not sane anymore…” Lena said. Against her better judgment, she crept closer, until she could almost see through the dusty window. Mrs. Beakley yanked her back, but there was no need. Poe had entered and was beckoning to them. Lena needed to get over her overwhelming fear of her aunt. She couldn’t psychically attack her anymore, and chances were, she was a pathetic shell of a person.

She poked her head into the open door and saw her aunt. Magica appeared stuck in a trance, oblivious to them, although Gladstone stirred. The office had two cots stuffed inside and a few bags full of clothes and assorted odds and ends open on the floor. Whatever else it had contained was gone. 

“She has no idea we’re here, does she?” Mrs. Beakley said.

“None whatsoever,” Poe confirmed. He reached to touch Magica’s shoulder, and Lena and Mrs. Beakley hauled her back.

“Right,” Mrs. Beakley said. “We know where to find her when we need to. We need to withdraw for now. Though why we would want to, I don’t know. But we’ll return with the proper material to subdue her.”

Magica bolted upright on the cot, unseeing. Lena’s stomach clenched.

“Whenever I find you, niece, beware,” Magica hissed.

She had to suppress a hysterical giggle. If Webby were here, aside from chewing Lena out for doing this, she’d be more than ready to throw hands with Magica. She’d probably jump her the instant she saw her. The thought oddly made Lena feel better.

“Help me,” Gladstone mouthed and then went still as if his strings had been cut. He stared sightlessly too. Okay, that was getting creepy.

“How does she not know we’re here?” Poe queried once they were a safe distance away.

“She’s lost in the ley lines,” Lena said and then laughed against, hysterical. “She’s looking for me in the ley lines, and I’m right in front of her. She’s completely lost it.”

“Yes, well, we can’t count on that,” Mrs. Beakley said stiffly. “She may yet rally.”

“Yeah, thanks for the good news, Paul,” Lena said, rolling her eyes. She was chilled from within and felt like no amount of warmth would be sufficient to make her feel safe again. Seeing her aunt incapacitated hadn’t made her feel more in control. If anything, she knew that her aunt’s temper would be legendary once she got her magical mitts on Lena again. 

“She won’t touch you,” Mrs. Beakley promised and then grimaced. “Would you please talk to Webby? I know you’re ignoring her, and if I know my granddaughter, which I do, then you’re driving her insane.”

“She has her own problems,” Lena objected, and Mrs. Beakley raised her eyebrows.

“Okay, okay,” Lena agreed. “Jeez. What is with this family and being hardasses?”

Reluctantly, aware she was probably about to be bitched out, Lena lowered her barriers. 

((So. Hey.)) Lena said.

((What the hell is going on?!)) Webby demanded, and Lena smiled. It took a lot to get Webby to curse.

((So you do care, pink. I’m flattered.))

((You blocked me out. For hours. I didn’t know what happened to you. You scared me to death. All I knew was from Dewey that you’d gone after Magica.))

((We went to _track _Magica,)) Lena corrected. ((We found her. But we’ll come back with reinforcements.))

((I don’t want you to go back at all,)) Webby said sourly. ((You know what she’d do to you if she could.))

((Since when do you tell me what to do?)) Lena retorted.

((She almost gave you a seizure, Lena!)) Webby replied, and beneath her anger was concern. She was genuinely scared for her wife. 

((I know. I was there, remember?)) Lena said, finding herself on the defensive. She never fought with Webby. What was she doing? She changed her tone and quickly, lest Webby take offense.

((I know. But she’s my problem.))

((She’s not your problem,)) Webby replied, implacable. ((Why do you always take so much on yourself?))

((Because I deserve it?)) Lena replied, shrugging in her mind.

((No more secrets. I love you. Stop doing this. You scared both of us.))

Lena wanted to say something acerbic in response, but the Bond prohibited lying. So she desisted. ((I know. I’m sorry.))

((Just because she’s your aunt doesn’t make her your problem. We love you. We’ll be back soon as we figure out how to get out of this mess.))

Lena smiled suddenly, struck by an idea. ((I know how to get away from Magica and help you.))

((No,)) Dewey interjected. ((They shoot down anyone flying nearby, remember?))

Oh, yeah, she’d forgotten. Sheepish, she offered another apology. So much for that idea. What else could she do to help them?

((Just don’t get into trouble, okay?)) Webby pleaded. 

((I’ll try,)) Lena promised. That was the best she could offer right now. It would have to be enough.

* * *

Doofus Drake stared at his prey through the webcam he’d installed in the cell. Louie was nervous, and Doofus loved it. He enjoyed every second of Louie attempting to think his way out of this and knowing that it was futile. He would come to Doofus eventually. All things came to him eventually.

Couldn’t he sense that the jaws of the trap were closing in on him? That all too soon, he’d be a precious fly on Doofus’s web? Then, well, he’d teach him about leaving. No one ever left Doofus. No one ever dared. Once he owned them, they stayed his.

He watched the others interact with him. They might pose a problem. He would need to pay Lunaris off to ensure that they stayed out of his way, just in case things got thorny later. Yes, he thought that would do rather nicely.

He could almost feel the panic in Louie’s chest. The worst part, Doofus knew, was the anticipation and not knowing what would befall him. And that, of course, was what Doofus loved best. Well, that and what was to come. But that was for Doofus to know and for Louie to find out.


	5. Chapter 5

Magica was lost in a daze of her own invention. She’d been following ley lines to see where they led, and she’d wound up far, far away from Dragonburg. Unaware of what transpired around her, she had no idea that she’d missed Lena’s presence. When she returned to herself, she was aware of Gladstone’s disappearance. That shouldn’t be possible. After all, he was chained to her by magic.

As she stepped out of the office for the first time in a few days, she noticed that the dust had footprints in it. Someone had been here, then. The problem was that the prints went in two different directions. One headed straight away, and the other seemed to wander further into the tunnels. Deciding that Gladstone would have wanted to remain near to her (and that he’d had little choice in the matter), Magica set upon the latter course.

As she did so, she could feel the corrupted magic trying to repair itself. It’d been doing that for a while now. The only way to fix it, as far as she knew, was to consummate the Bond again and relinquish her grasp on Gladstone’s mind and magic. That might go toward repairing the damage she caused. Of course, that would mean that Gladstone would have free will again, which could prove very dangerous.

Nonetheless, the darkness beat at her, and she sighed. It was the first time in a while that she’d been able to think clearly; it was as if a fog had lifted in her mind. She ought to let Gladstone go. She was selfish, using his luck, and she had loved him originally, hadn’t she? She’d wanted him and for more than a pawn. All she’d desired was revenge against Lena, to punish her for depriving her of Poe three times to count.

But Poe could have sought Magica out any time. He didn’t want to. This had nothing to do with Lena. Magica groaned, hand flying to her suddenly throbbing temples. She crashed against a broken subway car. Even when they were children, they’d never been particularly close. She’d hated that he didn’t have magic, and she wondered, for the first time, if he’d resented that she had them. On the rare occasion that they’d gotten along, she’d been possessive and cruel. No wonder she had driven Gladstone away.

She banged her head against the railcar and was glad no one was around to see her. She had to find Gladstone, yet her yearning to do so had gone. The Bond wanted to mend itself. She ought to let it. Fighting it was taking more energy out of her than she could spare. 

And Lena was out of reach. She hadn’t killed her when she’d had the chance, and now that Lena was Bonded with a Dragon brat, Scrooge would kill her if she hurt her because of the ripple effect. Nothing she did to Lena would remain with her; it’d strike Webby and Dragon brat too if not his brothers because of their triplet telepathy. What a sordid mess. 

She rested her head against the railcar, for she knew not how long. As time passed, she became aware of someone sitting beside her. It was Gladstone, and she lifted her head to regard him.

“Hi,” she said. She didn’t know what she expected. The last time she’d spoken with him, it’d been a farce, not a real conversation. Feeling the strings that linked her to him, she loosened them. She was afraid to relinquish her grasp, afraid he might fly the coop and leave her here to rot. He turned his head and regarded her for the first time in weeks. 

“Hey,” Gladstone said softly. “You’re not crazy anymore.”

Magica laughed harshly. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“You let me go,” he replied. Anxiety spiked through her. Had she? Had she wholly relinquished her grip on him? She hadn’t thought so, but anything was possible. Petrified that he might take this opportunity to flee her, she reached for the mental grips, but they were no longer there. The Bond was also no longer sparking and metaphorically belching black smoke. Her hands shook. Gladstone would leave her as Poe did. Like anyone she’d tried to hold onto.

Like Lena. Lena belonged to her. Or she had. She didn’t love the child, but she’d thought she could control her. In her world, if she didn’t control anything, then she was the one being manipulated. Her lips trembled, and she pressed them tightly together.

“Magica--you can’t hold onto everything,” he said. His lips twisted into a sad smile. “I tried.”

“You’re not going to leave me, are you?” she demanded. “You belong to me!”

“If you believed that, then why are you letting the Bond repair itself?” he replied. “Yes, we belong to each other. But that means you have to give yourself away too. You have to cede control, Magica.”

Her earliest memories involved loss of control and power. She drew a breath to brace herself and let it out in a shudder. No, no, she didn’t have to cede anything. Her throat was tight, and he offered her his hand. Shouldn’t he hate her after what she’d done to him? Shouldn’t he be fleeing now that he could? What had changed? Why was he still here?

“You’re the only one who saw anything in me other than a wastrel,” he said softly. “No, I’m not happy with you. But if the Bond is still there, that means that we still have a chance. Unless you don’t want to take it.”

He offered his hand more insistently. “Take it and let me see all of you. Or don’t and let yourself fall back into that mire, never to return.”

Magica shuddered. She was the one who called the shots. She was the one who made demands. She was the one who was lost, and she had no idea what to do now. 

Slowly, as if he might rescind his offer, she placed her hand in his and waited for the world to end. When it didn’t, she breathed a sigh of relief. That was it, at least for now. Maybe for once, she could just be, and that would be enough. She didn’t think so--power would always call to her, as would vengeance, but maybe, there was a chance.

This might be her last chance at redemption. She ought to take it...she ought to...her head swam again as she turned it to regard the dusty footprints leading away from her base. She was sinking back into that miasma, and she had no idea what had prompted her clear head or how to bring it back — her gaze connected with Gladstone’s.

“Who was here?” she demanded.

“I don’t know.”

“You’d better not be lying to me,” she snapped. Oh, god, her head was killing her. She stared at him. It was like she’d overindulged in magic, the magical equivalent of a hangover, except it was rendering it harder to think, to breathe, to do anything. Pain ricocheted around her brain.

“Was Lena here?” she growled. As she did, the pain increased tenfold. She doubled over, clutching her head. The last time this had happened, she’d fallen off into the abyss. She’d crawled down here, set up camp, and then been oblivious to the world for days. Time had lost all meaning.

“I don’t know.”

“Is that all you can say?” she snapped. Gladstone put an arm about her, and the Bond sparked weakly as if it was uncertain whether it wanted to attack her or rekindle their relationship. Being near Gladstone helped remove a little fog, but not much.

Crippling migraines. She squeezed her eye shut. When she spoke, her voice was weak.

“Was she?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

She couldn’t tell if he was lying. It felt like her head was being split into two. Was this what she’d subjected Lena to all those years? No wonder the girl hated her. It was horrific. She curled into a ball; the pain was too debilitating to do anything else.

Someone had been here. Beyond that, she couldn’t think. Bond healing would help this if the Bond weren't so severely wrenched by what she’d done before. She almost felt like she could cry tears of blood; the pain was that intense. If she’d been standing, she would have crashed to her knees. 

“Magica?” Gladstone murmured. She lashed out at him, and it was feeble, like a small child splashing in a pool. She slumped against him when he held her. Lena had been here...Lena must’ve been here...Lena…

She balled her fists and thought of nothing, the agony too intense to allow her to do anything but stare blankly ahead of her.

When it finally passed, she was alone again. It was cold, and her teeth chattered. She felt drained to the dregs, incapable of moving even if she’d wanted to. She was losing pieces of herself, bit by bit. That ought to be more worrying, but she was too busy being relieved the pain had ceased. It’d return, of that she had no doubt. The Bond was supposed to heal injuries, not induce them, but after what she’d done, she shouldn’t have been surprised that this was her lot in life.

A raven feather fell between her fingers, and she looked up. It was faerie glamour, which she found suspicious because she’d thought all of the faeries had died out long ago. A figure stood before her and glowed despite the lack of light surrounding them. It was Poe.

“You have to let this go, Magica,” he said gently. “It’s killing you.”

“Who are you to tell me anything?” she snapped. “You didn’t even have the common sense to stick with your true family.”

“I did stick with my true family,” he chided her. “Lena is my family.”

Her hallucinations spurned her too. Magica flipped him off and curled onto her side. She was too weak to do much else. Poe, however, didn’t let her escape him. Instead, he stepped closer to her.

“Magica, you can’t live with a corrupted Bond. The magic will either repair itself, or you’ll both perish. Is this what you want? To cut off your nose to spite your face?”

She didn’t know. Usually, she’d have had an adamant response to him, but nothing came to mind. She just stared until he sighed, shrugging.

“Think about it,” he urged her. “You can’t win this until you let go of your vengeance.”

Magica scoffed. That showed what he knew. Vengeance was all she had anymore. 

“Don’t make the wrong choice,” Poe continued, stepping away and fading into nothing. “There is more than just your life at stake here.”

He meant Gladstone--he had to. She couldn’t think of anyone else he could mean. Sighing, Magica continued to stare ahead of her and not think. She didn’t want to think; it’d open a can of worms she’d rather leave alone. But he was right, damn him. Time was running out. She’d have to make a decision soon.

She feared what it might entail.

* * *

Doofus Drake thought it might be time to inspect his prize in person. He strolled into the primitive holding area and located Louie in no time. He was staring at his cell phone, which had no battery left. Perhaps he thought if he stared at it hard enough, it might spring back to life. Seeing as the green attired boy hadn’t noticed his arrival, he cleared his throat. Louie jumped, fumbling his phone and dropping it onto the cement floor. 

“Tough luck,” Doofus said with a cruel smile. “Have you considered my offer?”

“I don’t know what your weird fascination with my son is,” Della began hotly, “but it ends here.”

Doofus turned his nose down at her. “Oh, right. You’re the woman who got lost in the rainforest for ten years. Excuse me if I don’t consider your opinion valid.”

Della seemed to be throttling her temper, but he didn’t care. He focused instead on Louie, who was backing up into the wall; his phone was temporarily forgotten. Webby and his brothers sprang to their feet, and Doofus looked over Dewey. 

“How’s your tail?” Doofus sneered.

Webby glared, and Doofus snorted. 

“We should talk about this,” Huey said.

“There’s nothing to discuss,” Doofus responded. “Llewellyn belongs to me.”

“People donnae belong to other people,” Scrooge snapped. “We donnae have slavery here.”

“Ah, yes, but someone as rich as yourself knows that there is a way around everything. A loophole, if you will,” Doofus said. His eyes shone draconic gold. He was practically salivating at the idea of owning Louie. Louie cringed, and Della wrapped her arms protectively about her youngest son. She glared daggers at Doofus.

“There is no loophole that allows ye to own my nephew!” Scrooge snapped. 

Doofus ignored him too. 

“You could Bond with me,” Doofus suggested. “Or, rather...you _ will _Bond with me. And then I’ll own you.”

“Holy shit, no!” Louie blurted. 

“Bonding is about a lasting emotional and mental connection,” Huey snapped. “Not about possession.”

“Isn’t all love about possession?” Doofus said and glanced at Goldie. “Keeping someone out of someone else’s reach because they belong to _you_? Everything is available for the right price.”

“You’re sick, kid,” Goldie said, folding her arms across her chest. 

“I’m not interested in you. I’m not interested in anyone that way,” Louie said. He shuddered. “And you can’t force someone to Bond...Webby, why are you looking at me like that?”

Webby was giving him a strange stare. “You can.”

“Don’t give him ideas!” Louie hissed.

“Well, it’s happened, but it doesn’t tend to last long,” Webby explained. “One or both parties go insane.”

“Great,” Louie said. “Just what I needed, to be shacked up with a crazy person and go mad myself.”

“No one’s going crazy,” Della snapped. “Because no one is getting Bonded against their will. Doofus, whatever you came here to get, you’re not getting. You’re leaving empty-handed.”

“Oh, you can all leave, except for Llewellyn, once you give me what I want,” Doofus said.

“Why would we let you take our brother?” Dewey snapped.

“I understand you have some unfinished business with Lunaris and the dragons here, Dumbella,” Doofus said coldly. “Surely, you wouldn’t want it to be concluded prematurely?”

Della bristled, though whether it was at her full name or his comment, he didn’t know. 

“Listen, you brat,” she snapped, “no one here is for sale.”

“I had a feeling you’d say something like that,” Doofus said and sighed as if she’d disappointed him. “It appears we’ll have to make alternate arrangements.”

He snapped his fingers, and the door to the military base opened, revealing Lunaris and his men. 

“Just remember--I did offer you a way out. It’s not my fault if you wouldn’t take my advice.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Huey demanded.

“It means, Hubert, that I can’t be held accountable for what comes next,” Doofus said, smirking. “You brought it on yourself.”

Nodding to Lunaris and his cronies, Doofus left them. He’d return for what was left, and then the training with Llewellyn could begin in earnest. He was quite looking forward to that.

Unlike other dragons, whose skills were more physical, Doofus specialized in psychic warfare. He could manipulate people’s emotions and plunge them into their worst fears. Lunaris had been instructed to extract Louie from the pack. Though he doubted that they’d get him without a fight, it would be done eventually. Doofus sat outside to wait--unfortunately, his powers required certain proximity. Otherwise, he’d have done it at his leisure elsewhere.

As soon as Llewellyn was alone, he shoved his way into his mind. Or, rather, he tried. For someone whose forte was not magic, Louie’s mental defenses were surprisingly robust. He encountered the mental equivalent of a metal wall. It rose high, too, which prohibited him from springing over it with his powers. He’d need to find either a way through or beneath it.

What would get under Llewellyn’s skin enough to get him to loosen his barriers? Seeing one of his brothers hurt had done it before. He typed out a command on his keypad, though he knew he was testing Lunaris’s patience. Lunaris had already had a set plan in motion for what he wanted to happen, and he disliked taking orders from children, even children with extraordinary amounts of money at their disposal.

With that accomplished, he felt Louie’s defenses lapse, not long, but enough for Doofus to slither his way through. He couldn’t read more than his surface thoughts at the moment--he’d need to inch closer without the other teen realizing what he was up to. All of Louie’s surface thoughts either revolved around money, fear of Doofus, and concern for himself, followed by his family. Lunaris had needed to subdue Della, and she hadn’t taken the suggestion well. Doofus sneered. Good. He disliked her already, and he barely knew her. She was better with a muzzle on.

((You know, you belong to me,)) Doofus said conversationally into Louie’s mind. ((Although I haven’t decided if I want to keep you as a pet, a possession, or Bonded. What do you think, Llewellyn?))

((Get out of my head!)) Louie snapped, shoving at him. Unfortunately for him, he was too distracted by whatever was going on around him to fend him off as well as he ought to. Doofus smiled.

((You had no business running from me,)) Doofus continued. ((I always get what I want in the end.))

((Back off!)) 

This wasn’t Louie. Huey had inserted himself into the conversation, which Doofus considered rude. Then again, he should have realized that the triplets had telepathy. Whatever he was saying to one of them must’ve echoed to the others. Bonding might sever that power, but he couldn’t be certain. He’d need to do more research first. Or, rather, he needed someone else to research for him.

((How is your mother?)) Doofus sneered.

Dewey cursed him out, and Doofus laughed.

((I didn’t ask _you. _

((Perhaps now you’ll change your mind? Lunaris has plans in mind for Dumbella,)) Doofus informed them. ((Revenge for skipping out on him earlier.))

((Leave our mother alone!)) Dewey snapped.

((You have no imagination,)) Doofus retorted. He sent Louie an image of himself as a dragon with Louie, likewise as a dragon, in thrall to him after the Bonding Flight. Revulsion flowed into Doofus from the Dragon boys, and Doofus laughed. They could be revolted all they wanted. This was going to happen--there was no escaping fate.

Within minutes, Lunaris and his crew had subdued the entire lot, although Louie was already in a solitary cell. Doofus stepped forward, out of his little alcove, and strolled over to Louie, who was in solitary. Louie glared balefully, his green eyes shining with hatred and fear. It was a heady mix, and Doofus smiled.

“Get. A. Life,” Louie spat. Doofus smirked. Despite Louie’s words, he could smell the apprehension thick on the other male dragon. He inhaled, relishing it.

“Perhaps you could help me with that. You _are _, after all, mine,” Doofus said.

“No. Dude, no. Just a thousand times, no.”

“If you come with me, I’ll tell them to stop,” Doofus said. They heard yelps from down the hall, and Doofus grinned, leering at him. Louie shuddered, but he didn’t bite. Not yet. Eventually, Louie’s conscience would get the better of him. He’d have to be worn down. That was fine. Doofus had all of the time in the world. Did Llewellyn?

“They can handle themselves,” Louie snapped.

“Can they?” Doofus threw back at him. He unlocked the door and stepped inside the cell, which was tight as it was. Louie shifted into the corner; Doofus knew that, despite Louie’s demeanor, the boy was at heart a coward. He stroked Louie’s cheek with the back of his hand.

“Is the better question--- can you?” 

With that thought ringing throughout Louie’s mind, he took his leave of the other dragon. Hopefully, he’d given him plenty of food for thought. He’d return later to see whether the stubborn green dragon had changed his mind. If not, well, other things could be done.

* * *

Poe had vanished, but that wasn’t Lena’s primary concern. What bothered her was that she could feel wrongness through the Bond, not related to Dewey and Webby, but to whatever transpired around them. They weren’t responding to her, and being on the receiving end of the cold shoulder sucked. She was worried. For all she knew, Lunaris had done something dreadful to her Bondeds. She wished he hadn’t instituted that stupid no-fly zone. Lena was half tempted to charge out there anyway and to hell with it. Her Bondeds needed her.

Several tense hours passed before she heard from either of them. By that time, in her humanoid form, she’d chewed her fingernails to ribbons, had practically worn a hole in the floor, and her anxiety was making random objects in the house crack. She was not in a good way. She needed good news and feared she wasn’t about to get it.

((They took Louie and Mom away,)) Dewey said. He sounded tired, and she could feel his weariness in her bones. ((They had to stun us or knock us out because we kept fighting them. I don’t know what they used on Uncle Scrooge, but he’s still out cold.))

((What about you two?)) Lena asked, alarm rising that she hadn’t heard from Webby.

((They had to hit Webby pretty hard to get her to stop attacking,)) Dewey said. ((She’s also unconscious. She and Mom put up the biggest fight when it came to keeping Louie here.

((Webby said it’s possible to Bond with someone against their will. Is she right?))

Lena knew he was asking because Lena’s magical knowledge was more extensive than hers. Nonetheless, his question chilled her. It reminded her of both Magica and Gladstone and of how bad Louie’s predicament could be. For that reason, she delayed responding. As she did, however, Dewey’s anxiety ramped up too. It was rivaling her own now.

((Yes,)) Lena finally answered. ((She’s right. It can be done. But it’s unpleasant. And it never ends well.))

((Webby had wanted to Bond with you before asking you,)) Dewey said. ((Mom told me. She was afraid you’d leave before she had a chance.))

((She was that afraid of losing me?)) She was incredulous. Not that Webby doubted her, because Lena had doubted herself at that point, but that Webby cared so much that she’d be driven to that extreme for fear of losing Lena. She was oddly touched, but that passed quickly. Instead, horror replaced it and creeping dread.

((Please don’t tell me she said that Bonds could be forced in front of Doofus.))

((She did.))

((Fuck! Does she even know what she’s done?))

((I can’t ask, remember?)) Dewey said, and Lena prodded Webby mentally. There was no response, and Lena sighed.

((There has to be a way around that no-fly zone,)) Lena grumbled. ((If I tell Mrs. B what happened, she’s gonna flip a shit.))

((Then don’t tell her?)) Dewey suggested. ((She might be better off not knowing.))

((Oh, sure. Tell me to keep more secrets from the ex-spy,)) Lena said sarcastically. ((Because that had worked out so well in the past.))

((Lena,)) Dewey said, and his tone was so serious that her temptation to needle him vanished. ((Is Louie gonna be okay?))

((You can’t ask him yourself?)) she said, feeling wrong-footed.

((He isn’t responding to me. And Doofus went off with him.))

Lena mulled on this and chewed the inside of her cheek. She was sitting in Webby’s bedroom and glancing around at all the souvenirs that Webby had of her life, both here and when she’d been traveling abroad. Not being able to feel Webby’s mind was like one of her limbs going to sleep, and she couldn’t rouse it. In such a short time, she’d grown accustomed to the feel of Webby in her head. It was so much better than the feeling of Magica. Webby was like a balm to nerves rubbed raw by Magica. She was an elixir to Lena’s trauma. 

That was how a Bond was supposed to feel. They were supposed to be complementary. If you Bonded with someone against their will, however, the dynamic changed. It became like something out of a nightmare.

((He’ll be okay,)) she reassured Dewey, forgetting that she couldn’t lie in the Bond. The Bond called her out on it, and she hissed. Every time she forgot about that, it came back to bite her.

((You don’t believe that either,)) Dewey said sadly.

((We found Magica,)) Lena said, casting about for a change in conversation, regardless of how unpleasant it was. ((That’s where my father went, to talk to her. Maybe with her distracted, I can find you.))

((I’m gonna figure out a way to help Louie,)) Dewey said, stubbornly sticking to the same tack. ((And I’m gonna get Doofus back for this. All of it.))

Lena prodded Webby again, and searing pain raced through her mind. It reminded her entirely too much of the migraines Magica used to give her, and she hissed. This headache, however, was from a drubbing Webby had received. Incensed that someone had dared to hurt her Webby, Lena swallowed back the rage and a magical power flare.

((Lena?)) Webby queried. Her voice was faint.

((Webby!)) 

((I’m glad you’re okay,)) Webby said.

((Me? I’m not the one who got hit in the head,)) Lena replied.

((Repeatedly,)) Webby groaned. ((Don’t do anything rash, okay? We’ll figure a way out of this mess. I love you.))

((I love you too,)) Lena said. More than Webby could ever know. ((But you’re insane. I’m coming there whether you two like it or not. Me and Mrs. Beakley.))

She’d expected Webby to protest or at least to tell her that she was insane. Instead, her wife did neither. She said quietly, ((Okay. Be careful.))

((Aren’t I always?)) Lena returned with a wry twist to her lips.

((No, not really,)) Dewey answered, and she snorted. Leave it to him to point out the obvious. But, fine, if Poe were going to handle Magica de Spell, then Lena and Mrs. Beakley would leave no stone unturned in their quest to help Webby and Dewey. They were all family, after all.

And, as much as Lena might hate to admit it...they might want to involve Violet. She owed them for almost killing Lena. For what she had in mind, she needed bait.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it’s a little short. I’ve had a really stressful week.
> 
> Magica will be in the next chapter.

Louie wasn’t used to being without his brothers, much less being mentally cut off from them. Sitting on the floor in a cell that barely allowed enough room for him to lie down, take care of his personal business, and eat, Louie was on edge. His emotions were everywhere. He was much concerned about what Doofus intended to do to him, and he was likewise worried about his siblings, mother, and Uncle Scrooge. Webby had taken quite a few knocks on the head.

Surely Doofus didn’t intend to Bond with Louie against his will. Man, he wished he’d paid more attention to Huey’s lectures about Bonding now. Webby had said it was possible but would end badly. It all depended on how much Doofus wanted to own him. Bonding also required consummation, which sent him on another tangent. 

He huddled in the cell, which was in the basement. There was only one way in or out, and Doofus hadn’t left guards, but he hadn’t needed to. The door was constructed from stone, and once it was closed, it was impossible to see the hinges. There was no window and nothing that moved save for straw and himself. Louie knew he needed to figure a way out, but his brain wasn’t helping. It’d become paralyzed with horror at the idea of Doofus forcing the consummation.

Louie couldn’t see much in the gloom. The lightbulb that might’ve dangled in another cell was embedded in the ceiling here, and it flickered ominously. The rank smell pervading the air was likewise unsettling, as it contained a combination of excrement, other bodily fluids, and death. It was the lattermost that perturbed him more.

Without a guard, there was no one to butter up and connive. Without much light, there was no way to determine if he was missing an angle. And without any movable objects, save for the straw, he couldn’t unscrew the hinges. He was supposed to be the con-man here, the one who saw every angle, and he sure as hell couldn’t see a way out of this.

Frustrated with himself, he balled his fists. Unlike his brothers, Louie hadn’t spent much time in dragon form, not even as a child. His dragon form was smaller than his siblings, and his tail was gimpy. It functioned the way a tail should, in terms of keeping him aloft and as a rudder, but it embarrassed him. Dewey and Huey had never teased him about it, but it didn’t matter. Louie was horribly aware of it.

This room was not large enough to permit him to shapeshift into a dragon. That didn’t preclude the possibility of him using magic to escape, though. The only problem was that Louie hadn’t the faintest idea of what element his magic was. Usually, someone discovered that when they Bonded, but if that were the case here, he’d learn it far too late to help. 

Louie frowned. Could it help if he partially shifted? Like Lena, he had problems controlling his form but, unlike Lena, none of his draconic traits materialized when he was in humanoid form. He frowned, trying to figure out where the edges of the door might be. If he could get his talons in between that and the wall, he might stand a chance.

And perhaps he’d be lucky and discover that his talent lay with spewing acid. Some dragons had multiple skills, such as acid and water. Louie didn’t think he’d be that fortunate. Still, anything remotely helpful would be much appreciated right now.

Doofus hadn’t ventured into his mind again, but Louie didn’t doubt that he could if he wished. That felt like the grossest invasion of privacy ever. It was like Doofus could stumble upon him naked and study him at leisure. Louie hugged himself and pulled his hoodie over his head as if by doing so, he could banish the mental image.

Inhaling deeply, Louie concentrated hard and spat out what he hoped was acid. It wasn’t. Drool dripped down the wall.

But he did have something acidic on him. Whether it would erode the walls was another story, but it was worth a shot. The only problem there was that he was inherently a coward, and using his blood meant cutting himself. Still, he knew that draconic blood could eat through strong structures, even if he’d never tested it. He wasn’t the self-mutilating type.

Cringing and anticipating pain, he sliced along his arm. He hissed once the pain started and then rubbed his arm along the wall. Man, not only was he desperate and disturbed, he had no idea if it was working. He was hissing, and he couldn’t be sure if the wall were hissing too or if he was gritting his teeth against the deep gash he’d opened up.

Teeth clenched, he forced himself to stop hissing. Other than the drip, drip, drip, of his blood and his panting, there were no sounds. Louie screamed in frustration and punched the wall. That sent rippling agony down his arm, and he swallowed back curses. The door wasn’t budging or the wall or whatever he was standing in front of. This wasn’t encouraging.

What would it take to make that sick fuck let him out? The last time he’d been in a jam this bad, his brothers had come to bail him out. They weren’t here now. They couldn’t even communicate with him. Anxiety racketed up. His mother and Webby had suffered attempting to protect him, and it’d been for nothing.

Wait. That was it. He’d have no mobility unless he acceded to Doofus’s plans. No one said he had to be sincere about it. Louie smiled and let down his mental barriers, the ones that Doofus had been so surprised to discover. Projecting confidence and acceptance, he let Doofus scan his thoughts. Since they weren’t Bonded (and never would be), surface emotions and thoughts would suffice. He didn’t know why or how Doofus could communicate with him via telepathy when that was reserved for Bondeds and close family, but that was a mystery he’d gladly leave for another day, once he got out of here.

((I’ve reconsidered,)) Louie said, adopting a suitably contrite tone. ((Just don’t hurt me. Or my family.))

((Oh? You’re not lying to me to get me to release you, are you?)) Doofus replied. Louie concealed a smile. Unlike Bonds, you _could _lie mind to mind in casual conversation. He’d done so with his brothers via telepathy countless times, although Huey usually found out. Dewey, on the other hand, was a soft touch. He hoped that Doofus would be too.

((Of course not,)) Louie reassured him. Continuing in that faux sincere tone, he added, ((I saw what you did to my family. You almost ripped off Dewey’s tail. I don’t want you to hurt them.))

((Hmm.)) 

Louie knew better than to push. There were times when you needed to edge a mark toward what you wanted and times when you needed them to reach a conclusion on their own. This was the latter. Louie would ruin his credibility if he forced the issue.

((I suppose I can allow you out for a trial period,)) he allowed. ((Provided you behave.))

Louie grinned, glad that Doofus couldn’t see his expression. ((Why would I misbehave? You said it yourself--we’re meant to be together, right?))

He stopped himself before adding anything sappy. That would probably push things too far. Some people would eat that shit up, but Doofus would become suspicious.

Doofus didn’t say anything, but the door receded into the wall. Louie wished he had the skill to heal himself, and, seeing as he didn’t, he shoved his arm into the hoodie pocket to conceal his bleeding wrist. When he stepped outside, he discovered Doofus standing at the end of the hallway at the only exit. Doofus studied him for duplicity. 

“Would I lie to you?” Louie said. He didn’t smile, however. He was still perturbed that he couldn’t sense or talk to his brothers. 

“I don’t know. It certainly wouldn’t be the actions of someone who wanted to Bond with me,” Doofus said, studying him. “But you can’t lie mind to mind.”

Louie concealed a smirk. If this sap thought that was true for regular telepathic communications, he had another thing coming. But it wasn’t up to Louie to enlighten him, not yet. He could let this charade play out for a while, up until he got everyone out of Doofus’s custody, especially himself, and figured out Lunaris’s game. 

“No, of course not,” Louie agreed. For a rich kid, he sure was gullible. Louie could work with that.

He followed Doofus like an obedient servant and calculated the odds and mapped out the place in his head. He doubted that he’d have to return here, but having a mental floor map couldn’t hurt. Every little bit of information helped. Besides, there was usually repetition in a blueprint. It was unlikely for the other floors to deviate from the layout he’d already witnessed. 

They walked up the stairs and, in what Louie figured had to be deliberate, past his family. 

“What’s going on?” Huey demanded. “Where are you going?”

Louie turned back and mouthed “trust me” at his siblings. Webby was stirring, and he wanted to see how she was faring, but he didn’t want to distract Doofus or give him a reason to doubt him. He had to trick Doofus into trusting him or at least seem resigned to his fate.

“It appears that dear Llewellyn has come to his senses at last,” Doofus said, putting a hand on Louie’s shoulder. Louie suppressed a shudder. So...gross…

Della was conscious, though she had an impressive bump on her head. Her gaze focused on Louie, and a silent message passed between them. She nodded, and he inclined his head slightly back, as much as he could get away with. Doofus missed it, shocking. 

Doofus pushed Louie back toward more steps. Louie suppressed a groan. More stairs? Seriously? He’d almost rather be stuck in the cell. 

Almost. Still, exercise sucked. Hopefully, after they were done with their mandatory exercise, they could find an elevator, and he could get back to plotting. Without knowing what the others would be doing, it’d be challenging to construct a suitable plan of attack, but he’d manage. And in the meanwhile, maybe Penumbra and his mom could do the work for him. You never know.

* * *

In the end, Lena had opted not to use Violet, not because it wouldn’t have been expedient, but because one, she couldn’t find her and two, she had a better idea. Although Lena had shied away from using magic in the past, Magica had ensured that her niece was proficient in it. She just hated using it. It reminded her entirely too much of Aunt Magica’s machinations and brought back the old fear she might lose Webby.

She could feel Webby in her mind now, which diminished her fear. Webby felt off-kilter, perhaps due to blows to the head, and it made her mission all the more imperative. She shifted into her dragon form along with Mrs. Beakley, and the two dragons headed where Lena was positive her Bondeds were. As she did so, she realized it was the first time she’d been alone with Webby’s grandmother.

When she’d been acting as Magica’s agent, she’d done her utmost to remain below her radar. Mrs. Beakley had never suspected her of subterfuge, which she was more likely to have done than Webby, who was too naive sometimes for her own good. She and Dewey shared that trait.

The distance they would have to travel would be considerable, even in dragon form. Lena had to hope that Webby and the others would survive without their interference. From what Dewey had told her earlier, Lunaris had sequestered the Dragon family apart from any other passengers and had also permitted Doofus to take Louie away. Louie was a secondary problem, and Lena had confidence he’d be able to trick his way out. 

Webby could normally fight her way out, but Lunaris had numbers on his side. Lena couldn’t discern the conditions in which her Bondeds were being kept; Webby’s mental state and Dewey’s anxiety over his mother and Louie were obscuring her ability to “tune” into them. If she could’ve risked astral projecting, she would have, but she would have needed to be still for that. Doing so while flying would mean flying into something or merely plummeting from mid-air.

She hadn’t told Mrs. Beakley the extent of Webby’s injuries. Due to her Bondeds’ captivity, it’d be impossible to invoke Bond healing, as that required sensual contact. And while her Bondeds were very open with their affection, there was a difference between casual touching and more intimate touching.

She wanted to batter Lunaris’s troops around for what they’d done to Webby. Darkness clouded her aura for a minute, and she pushed it back. No, she would do better to focus on their rescue plan than on what evil the others had done.

Her necklace was tight against her neck. It still fit her in dragon form, but barely. That was another thing. She had no idea what Aunt Magica was planning, and it made her nervous. Hell, most things with Magica made her nervous. She wanted to close that chapter of her life for good, and yet it kept flipping back open.

If she wanted to check on her aunt, she’d need to remove the necklace. When they stopped for the night, she would. She could fly through the night, but it’d mean she wasn’t well-rested when they reached Lunaris’s camp. 

They hadn’t brought weapons, but hopefully, they wouldn’t need them. If it came to the point where they did, then they were in trouble. Lena’s tail whipped through the air. They’d postponed the Flight until Dewey’s tail completely healed and could serve as a rudder. Lena knew that the Bond could survive partially consummated for years, but it wasn’t a good idea. And, well, she wanted all the benefits that came with being with Webby so closely. Dewey too, but she’d always yearned for that connection with Webby. 

When she’d allowed herself to hope for a brighter future, one in which Webby didn’t loathe her for betraying her, she’d envisioned herself with Webby in a Bond. Unfortunately, her low self-esteem meant those daydreams were few and far between. 

It was odd to be traveling with a member of the Dragon/Vanderroar family and not have incessant babbling. Webby would’ve been talking up a storm along with Dewey. Mrs. Beakley was quiet, all business.

“How are you?” Mrs. Beakley queried, startling her. She hadn’t expected her to speak at all.

Lena would’ve shrugged, but that was a futile gesture in her current form. “Eh. Why do you ask?”

“You _are _my granddaughter-in-law, you know,” Mrs. Beakley said. “And you’ve been through an ordeal.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Lena muttered and let the winds carry her words away. They needed to shout anyway, what with the winds drowning out normal conversation.

“I want you to know that you can talk to me if you need to,” Mrs. Beakley continued.

Yeah, she’d file that under “not damn likely.” She opened up to Dewey and Webby, but that was different. They shared headspace. Anxiety suddenly clawed at her, and she reached out to Webby. Webby reached back. It sometimes astonished Lena that Webby _could _love her, much less care for her as much as she did. Of course, that was nothing compared to how much Lena cared for Webby, but after the upbringing she’d had, the idea that anyone could care for her was mind-boggling.

((Are you okay?)) Webby asked.

((You just got knocked around on the head, and you’re asking me if I’m okay?)) Lena scoffed. ((You’re weird, pink.))

((Of course, I’m asking if you’re okay, considering that Magica’s on the loose.))

Lena didn’t reply for a minute. Yes, she knew Magica was on the loose, but she was far more concerned with Webby and Dewey right now. Besides, her health didn’t mean much compared to theirs. 

((_Lena_…)) Webby scolded. ((You’re doing it again.))

((What? No, I’m not,)) she said and then hissed when the Bond called her out on lying. ((You never realize how much you casually lied until you suddenly can’t…))

((So, all those times you said you were okay, you were lying?)) Dewey interjected.

((Pretty much,)) Lena responded.

((When _were _you telling the truth, then?)) Dewey pressed.

Lena thought of when she’d been lying at death’s door and how badly she’d wanted to perish. Unfortunately, she wasn’t quick enough to block the memory out before Dewey and Webby saw it. In her defense, it was hard to concentrate on flying and talking, especially while following her magical senses to their location.

((I wish you could’ve come to us sooner,)) Webby chided. ((I wish I had known how bad it was for you.))

It was...no; she couldn’t say “fine.” She couldn’t lie mind to mind, not in the Bond. 

((I thought if I told you what was going on, even obliquely, because the geas kept me from spelling it out, you’d throw me out,)) Lena admitted. ((And you’d want to have nothing more to do with me.))

((So you kept all of that pain to yourself because you were that scared of losing me?)) Webby replied. She felt the mental equivalent of a hug from her Bondeds, one that was particularly tight on Webby’s part.

((It was better than passing it on to you,)) Lena scoffed. ((Besides, I deserved it.))

She almost crashed into a tree as she felt her Bondeds’ regard sharpen. She wasn’t lying, only saying what she felt, which meant the Bond couldn’t call her out on it. However, the alarm from them was almost stupefying. 

((No, you didn’t!)) Webby said hotly. ((Okay, once we get out of here and vanquish Magica _again_, we are having a serious conversation.))

((Why would you hate yourself so much?)) Dewey asked, and his voice was soft compared to Webby’s worry and anger, which was directed at Magica anyway.

((I could give you a list,)) Lena said and rolled her eyes. ((Kinda busy right now, though.))

She stretched out her wings and enjoyed the wind in her face. They were above where the bugs would’ve been, so at least she didn’t have to worry about them flying into her mouth.

((Mom!)) Dewey said, and Lena caught herself again before slamming into a tree. 

((Oh, no…)) Webby said. ((We gotta go.))

That did not bode well at all. Lena’s apprehension racketed back up. What was going on with Della? Dewey and Webby had partially blocked her out, she supposed because she was distracting them, but that didn’t mean she worried less. Instead, it had amplified her concerns.

They would need to find a place to land for the night soon. Lena wished that was her biggest problem. Even without knowing entirely what was going on, Dewey’s franticness had slipped into their link.

She knew Lunaris hated Della Dragon for some reason. She also knew that Della had crash-landed into Lunaris’s camp and that the dragons siding with him were evil and partially trapped in their draconic forms as a result of using too much dark magic. What she didn’t understand was why they hated Della so much. Della was almost impossible to hate, in Lena’s opinion. She was just so damn bubbly, determined, protective, and well-intentioned. Lena guessed that could rub someone the wrong way, but she didn’t see how. Then again, Della reminded her a little of Webby...so Lena might’ve been prejudiced.

“What’s going on?” Mrs. Beakley inquired.

Lena gave her a condensed version, and Mrs. Beakley scowled.

“We had better tread carefully,” she advised. “We don’t know what Lunaris has in mind.”

* * *

“You turned my best lieutenant against me,” Lunaris snapped. He had taken the barely conscious Della out of the cell, and only threats and well-aimed blaster shots had prevented the boys from launching themselves after their mother. Right now, he stood right outside the holding cell and shook Della until her teeth rattled. She blinked rapidly.

“What is yer problem with my niece?” Scrooge demanded.

“Ten years ago, she stumbled upon a very delicate operation,” Lunaris snapped. “A bid to overthrow the current regime.”

Scrooge froze. _He _was part of the current regime, and Lunaris smiled thinly, acknowledging that. 

“A coup, if you will,” Lunaris continued. “Ruined by the _Spear of Selene _crash-landing.”

“So ye kept her captive for ten years?” Scrooge snapped.

“It was never really about her,” Lunaris said and flung Della against the wall. “It was about _you_. How you, the richest dragon in Dragonburg and, indeed, in the world, managed to evade all the consequences of your actions. How you managed to avoid using dark magic or magic at all.”

“So, basically, you made this a pissing contest,” Goldie interrupted. Lunaris glared, and she amended her statement, but the additional comment was hardly more complimentary.

“Oh, you didn’t like that?” she queried, raising her eyebrows. “Would you rather I got a ruler? You sure seem like you’re overcompensating for something.”

Lunaris bristled and then pushed aside his irritation. She wasn’t necessary for the grand scheme of things. Scrooge was, and he was glowering fit to kill. Lunaris smiled.

“That’s right. Isn’t Della like your daughter? You raised her and her twin Donald, didn’t you?” Lunaris said casually. 

Della was rousing, and his followers pointed weapons at her. 

“What. Do. Ye. Want.” Scrooge snapped, biting off each word.

“I’ll start with your position, for starters,” Lunaris said, and his eyes gleamed draconic gold. “And we can go from there.

“After all, you’ve had control of Dragonburg for how long and haven’t even used half of the power available to you? It’s a waste.”

His lip curled at Della. “I hate waste.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot I had an update for this for this week. Go me.
> 
> Yeah...as I've said in other fics, my writing's going to be all over the place for a while. Mom was diagnosed with cancer last Monday, so my attention span/ability to focus and my preferences for what I'm working on are also going to be all over the place. Woot. 
> 
> On a less serious note, I'm setting up the plot for the fourth Dragon series.
> 
> EDIT: Since it's a big deal... Doofus kisses Louie against his will. There's no actual rape in this series, fyi.

Magica could feel Lena’s mind for the first time in a long while. She wasn’t sure, however, where her niece was and tuning into her mind was like listening to a foreign tongue. All of a sudden, she couldn’t make heads or tails of her thoughts. Magica didn’t know where to strike because she didn’t know where she was vulnerable. Frustrated, Magica sat on her cot and glanced over at Gladstone.

He was moving now and more cognizant of his surroundings than he’d been before. Glancing back at her, he frowned. She half expected him to reprimand her for mucking about in Lena’s mind, but he didn’t seem to know, or if he did, he knew she’d gotten nowhere fast.

“Well?” she demanded. 

“Lena wasn’t here, but Poe is,” Gladstone said quietly. He gestured toward a figure standing in the doorway. Magica turned; her brother was standing there, and she abandoned her futile attempts to scry into Lena’s thoughts. Poe was watching her closely, and her lower lip curled in disdain. 

“What do you want?” she snapped. “Why aren’t you following your precious daughter?”

“This has to stop,” he replied, advancing toward her. She jumped to her feet and reached for her magic; a purple ball glowed in her right palm. He needn’t come closer, as far as she was concerned. He was probably here to plead Lena’s case. 

“Don’t tell me about Lena,” she growled warningly. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“Your perverting the Bond is having a ripple effect,” Poe said instead. “It’s causing magical problems everywhere. I saw it while I was traveling here, and I’m not exactly a magical virtuoso. You either have to repair it or sever it, Magica.”

“Or what? What do you think you’re going to do to me?” she challenged. 

“Me? I’m not going to do anything. When Scrooge returns, that’s another matter,” he replied. He stepped closer despite her holding the magical orb aloft. She sneered but didn’t fling it at him. Recollections of how distraught she’d been after he’d perished echoed through her mind, and she lowered her hand. However she felt about Poe’s interference now, she genuinely cared for him as she had for Gladstone. As she might still for Gladstone.

“You have to release him or remedy the problems you created,” Poe said.

“If I release him, we both die,” Magica spat. 

“Right now, the Bond is dying,” Poe answered. “It’s obvious to everyone _but _you. It can still be repaired, but it’s a near thing.”

Magica scowled. “What right do you have to give me magical advice?”

Poe sighed. “You can’t stay this way, Magica. It’s not sustainable. And I won’t let you hurt Lena again. You’ve done enough damage.”

Magica sneered. “Nothing permanent.”

“Give it up,” he implored. “You’re not getting anywhere. This is bigger than you and your petty vendetta against Scrooge and the McDragons. The longer the Bond goes as it has, the greater the perversion and the worse things will get for everyone. The effects may be minimal right now, but they’ll spread and distort other Bonds and magic in general.”

“Why should I care?” Magica snorted. “What does it matter to me what happens to other people?”

“Because this Bond is going to kill either you or Gladstone in short order,” he snapped. “And once one dies, the other is either completely insane and follows soon after or is a gibbering lunatic. Which would you rather be?”

Dead or insane. What choices. She hissed. Inevitably there were exceptions. Surely she would be the exception here. After all, she was powerful. She was a sorceress, not a mundane dragon. If anyone ought to be above the rules, it was her.

Poe sighed. “No one has ever escaped the consequences of the Bond breaking, Magica. You’re not all-powerful. Frankly, it’s a miracle you’ve survived this long.”

“It’s not a miracle. It’s because I am the great, the masterful Magica de Spell,” Magica replied and puffed out her chest. 

Poe folded his arms across his chest. Despite her bluster, he appeared unimpressed. Or was it because of her bluster that he was unimpressed? She glowered at him. How dare he stand there as if what he said had a consequence. 

She glowered, and he glared back. Somehow, this reminded her of when they were fighting children. It also reminded her of how badly she’d wanted him back, and Lena had screwed it all up. Oddly, she wasn’t angry at Lena for this, not now. She wasn’t going to relinquish her grudge against her niece, far from it, but Poe’s logic made a twisted sort of sense.

“Gladstone tried to possess Lena in a desperate attempt to regain your attention,” Poe continued. Magica hissed.

“Is that true?” she snapped, rounding on Gladstone.

“Your brother’s right,” Gladstone said, in an echo of his former self. “We can’t go on like this.”

This was an uncomfortable situation. She wasn’t used to losing, although she’d been losing for fifteen years and counting. For one thing, she was a sore loser. For another, she couldn’t believe that she’d have to capitulate this. She’d only agreed to the Bond to save her skin. (And, a treacherous voice whispered, because you care for Gladstone). 

“Fine,” she growled, relinquishing her magical weapon and standing there with her fists balled at her sides. Her long black dress, which had tears in it and had accumulated dust from dragging on the floor, could’ve used a wash too. She was aware that she smelled unpleasant. Then again, Gladstone didn’t smell like roses either.

She had a choice, little though she liked it. She could fully consummate her Bond with Gladstone or attempt to without depth perception and her tail gone, or she could repudiate him and sever the Bond entirely. She couldn’t have it both ways, and she’d been foolish to think otherwise. (This was Lena’s fault, of course. Nothing was ever Magica’s fault).

As she mulled it over, the fog over her thinking dissipated. She glanced at her hands and let them elongate, becoming draconic. 

“Let’s get out of here,” she growled, her voice raspier now that she was shifting back into her dragon form. At least she had the choice of it now instead of being trapped as she’d been before.

Without looking to see if Gladstone was following, she traversed the underground and transformed further and further into a dragon as she went. She had a stump where her tail ought to be, and she knew that Scrooge had ordered Gyro to outfit her with a mechanical replacement tail, but there wasn’t time for that now. Besides, if she stormed into McDragon Enterprises and demanded Gyro work on her, they’d probably arrest her again. All because she’d threatened a few children and an ex-spy. Some people were so touchy.

Launching herself into the air was the easy part. It turned out that staying aloft and steering was another entirely. This would be a very short Flight if Gladstone couldn’t chase her because she couldn’t remain in the air long enough to make it more of a contest. She cursed Webbigail.

Magica nearly fell again as she pushed herself higher. Gladstone was behind her, at least. If they could remain in the air for at least a minute, maybe she had a chance. Of course, that assumed that he wanted to consummate the Bond with her. What if he didn’t? What if, after everything she’d done to him, he’d decided he no longer wanted to be bound to her? The thought caused her to careen into a tree. Shit. She didn’t have depth perception.

Gladstone was climbing, and she hoped he didn’t have a cruel bone in his body because someone else might’ve let her sink. She knew that Lena would’ve. Mrs. Beakley would’ve recorded it. Anger lent her strength, and she pushed herself away from the tree with difficulty. Flying was laborious and almost impossible now. 

The only way for her tail to grow back was to complete the Bond fully. Then it might be able to heal. Dragon tails _could _regrow, but it was a long process. 

Gladstone was approaching, and she would’ve lashed her tail through the air if she’d had it. Her heart pounded, and she imagined the next few steps. He’d latch onto her and steady her in midair before mounting her. They hadn’t consummated the Bond in so long that she found herself aching for it and him. 

But why wasn’t he moving? Why was he hovering there, watching her? Well? 

“Get on with it!” she growled. It didn’t come out through telepathy. Gladstone watched her from about ten feet away. Did he expect her to bridge the gap? She was barely staying away from the damned trees. They’d need to gain altitude to consummate, and he wasn’t flying any higher. Why wasn’t he flying higher? What if...no, that was ridiculous.

Gladstone moved toward her finally, and relief swamped her. No, he wasn’t going to abandon her. Of course not. How could she think such a foolish thing?

“Poe lied to you before,” Gladstone said quietly. “I didn’t want Lena so I could bring you to your senses. I wanted Lena so I could _get out_. And there’s only one way to do that.”

He smiled at her, but it was not a gentle, reassuring expression. It was cold and calculating.

“Maybe you infused me with too much of your darkness, Magica. I don’t think I’d even consider doing this before,” he said and then took to the skies, far too fast for her to follow. She tried anyway, but without her tail, it was hopeless. She plummeted further and further until she crashed into the ground. Unlike Lena, she didn’t have wind magic to break her fall, and she screamed at the sky as Gladstone became a speck in the distance.

“You can’t leave me!” Magica roared. “You need me!”

((No, I don’t,)) Gladstone said. ((_You _need _me. _And this is me, getting out.))

It felt like someone had wrenched her heart out of her chest. The pain was indescribable, as bad as it had been when she’d first tried to subjugate him. Only this time, nothing impeded it. And, as Poe landed nearby, the corrupt magic spread, killing plants, warping animals, and distorting any magical beings it touched. It would be slow at first, but, like cancer, it would grow. Magica hadn’t excised it in time. In reality, there’d been no time at all. 

* * *

“So, what is with you guys and my mom?” Louie asked in a would-be casual voice. “What did my mom ever do to you?”

“Della?” Doofus queried. “Nothing. I teamed up with Lunaris and his ilk because it was convenient and for no other purpose.”

“Then why not let the others go?” 

“I don’t want them going after you,” Doofus retorted. Feigning ignorance wasn’t going to get him very far. He’d do best to find a different tack. 

Doofus guided Louie out of the base and into his camp, which consisted of a tent that was easily the size of an average person’s house. It dwarfed the old houseboat, that was for sure. Louie also knew for certain that he didn’t want to disappear into that tent with Doofus alone. That was a sure recipe for disaster.

The mental equivalent of a mosquito sucking at his blood startled him for a second. It disappeared so quickly that he convinced himself he’d imagined it. Besides, he had way more important things to worry about than random occurrences. 

Louie hesitated on the threshold, and Doofus shoved him inside. Louie went sprawling and picked himself up quickly. For once in his life, laziness would not serve him. Heart pounding, he reached for his magic and glanced down at his hoodie. His draconic blood had eaten through the material and exposed his flabby stomach. Yes, he was chubby, especially compared to his brothers. Yes, he was a little sensitive about it, thank you very much. 

Doofus’s gaze went down to his stomach and back up to his face. A predatory look flitted across the other boy’s face, and Louie felt sick to his stomach. He pulled his wrist out of his hoodie, as there was no point in concealing it any longer. At least it had scabbed over.

“Look, I don’t know what you want with me—“

“You know exactly what I want with you,” Doofus retorted. “Let’s not beat around the bush, shall we?”

“I’m not interested in that,” Louie snapped. “Look, you got me, okay? You can gloat and all of that—“

“I don’t _own _you, not yet.”

The words sent a chill down his spine. He didn’t dare reach for his brothers via telepathy; for all he knew, the prohibition was still in effect. He was on his own here. No one was coming to rescue him.

_“I talk my way out of things. How long until that isn’t enough?”_

He had to give the performance of a lifetime, or he was screwed. Literally. His heart pounded harder, and his mouth went dry. His mom had gotten battered as a result of trying to protect him, and Webby hadn’t fared much better. The anger from that competed with fear of what Doofus might do to him. That sent his brain into overdrive mode.

“You don’t want to own me. I’m terrible. I’m lazy, I drink all the Pep and don’t even recycle it, and I never remember anniversaries,” Louie said. “I’m probably forgetting one right now.”

He surveyed the room in which he found himself. It contained Doofus’s bed (someone had dragged a four-poster here, in the middle of nowhere), a full chest of clothes, and a laptop on a desk. There was also a picture of Louie and Goldie on said desk. What the hell. Louie’s skin was crawling.

“You know that rape isn’t part of the Bond, right?” Louie said quietly as Doofus watched him. “That rape is supposed to be anathema to it?”

Doofus frowned, studying him. “It wouldn’t be rape. I’d merely be establishing what I own.”

“Yeah, okay, back where I’m from, they call that ‘slavery,’” Louie said bluntly. Doofus snapped his fingers, and his parents materialized out of nowhere. They looked sallower than they had the last time he’d encountered them, and he briefly questioned what horrors Doofus had subjected them to. He also wondered what was going on with his family and remembered how fiercely his mom had tried to keep the dark dragons from seizing him. If she could’ve clawed someone’s eyes out, she would have. It had taken _ten _dragons to subdue her and Webby.

“Do you mean to tell me you’re not interested in our partnership?” 

“Let my family go,” Louie said. “Then I’ll think about it.”

“You don’t have the luxury of thinking about it,” Doofus hissed. He pinned Louie to the wall, and Louie was aware that Doofus had at least twenty or thirty pounds on him. His heart hammered between his ribs. It occurred to him that even if the Bond could be forced, which Webby had said it could, you’d probably need more magic than Doofus had on hand or knew how to use. That ought to have been comforting, but it wasn’t. Something told him that Doofus wouldn’t let such considerations stop him.

“Okay, I get it, you really want me,” Louie said, feigning a smile. He wasn’t physically strong like his brothers. He couldn’t expect to beat Doofus into submission like his sister. He’d have to surprise him and take his chances.

“And what I want, I will have,” Doofus said and kissed him. It was whatever the opposite of how he’d pictured a kiss to feel like. Rather than affection and romance, he felt disgusted and violated. Louie punched Doofus in the stomach so hard that it took the larger boy’s breath away. But Doofus didn’t release him.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Doofus croaked. Louie kicked him in the groin and scrambled away, searching for a weapon. No, wait, fighting wasn’t his forte. He needed to get the hell out of here, grab his family, and go.

He could picture what Doofus could do to him without exercising his imagination too far. His mouth dried out, and he grabbed the laptop on the table. Doofus stopped, eyes narrowing. Louie had no idea what was on it, whether it was incriminating or not, but he knew that if someone had seized his phone or laptop without his permission, he’d have stopped in his tracks too. Doofus was more stunned by that than by Louie’s doubtless ineffectual blows.

A smile slowly spread across Louie’s face. “You have something on here, don’t you? Something you don’t want getting out.”

“Give it back to me,” Doofus commanded, but, unlike before, he no longer sounded so confident or in control of the situation. Louie knew that destroying the computer would probably be unwise; however, keeping it in his possession would give him the upper hand. He could work with that.

“Now, what could you be keeping on this that you’d be afraid I could access?” Louie queried. “It can’t unlock with facial recognition, or you wouldn’t be this agitated.”

“Get him!” Doofus commanded his parents, and Louie rushed out of the room with the laptop cradled in his arms. “But don’t harm the laptop!”

All right, so he had dirt on Doofus, though he didn’t know what it was. The wisest thing to do would be to figure out how to access it and use it against him, but to do that he’d need to sequester himself long enough to unearth the laptop’s secrets. It might be the difference between a very unpleasant and short future and fixing this mess. He was willing to take his chances.

He’d have to shift into a dragon to gain distance between here and a safe place. That also meant putting his family further behind, which felt a little like running away and abandoning them. That didn’t sit well with him. Then again, neither did getting captured by Doofus’s parents. It was a no-win situation. His stomach churned in agitation.

He propelled himself into the air and back toward the base where his family was. Maybe Huey would know how to hack it, although he also knew that Huey would have ethical objections. Whatever. This was an emergency. He could put his morals down where the sun didn’t shine.

To his surprise, Doofus’s parents didn’t appear to be following him. Something else had caught their attention. Perplexed, Louie wheeled about in midair and then, cautiously, lowered himself back to the ground. Something was going on in the base; from here, Louie couldn’t tell what, only that there was a great deal of shouting and then the southern wall, where his family was being kept, exploded outward. Louie knew only one dragon with power over earthen material, and he seldom used his magic unless he was super pissed off.

So, the question remained--what exactly had ticked him off enough to blow out a wall? Was it controlled, or was Uncle Scrooge so angry that he hadn’t been able to help himself? Louie put the laptop in a safe place and then descended toward the base. Worry for his family threatened to choke him. No, he wasn’t that much of a coward. When push came to shove, he couldn’t repay his family’s attempts to save him by abandoning them in their moment of need even if he thought that other people could do it better.

It was a brouhaha in there. It occurred to him that he didn’t know what his mother’s powers were either. He’d assumed she didn’t want to use them once she was paralyzed. A tremendous whoosh of flames licked upward, and he wracked his brain, trying to remember who was what. Launchpad was wind, and Webby was fire. Dewey was water. Scrooge was earth, and Goldie was something like that? Louie only knew that he wasn’t acid. What other elements did that leave?

Electricity. It came to him in a flash, and he looked down into the chaos below. If his element _was _electricity, then he might be able to pull off something, as well as fine-tune the laptop into revealing its secrets. Of course, that meant he’d need pretty excellent control, which was unlikely if he was using his powers for the first time. Maybe he could con his skills into working for him. 

He wasn’t going to run away and let his family face the dark dragons on their own. Even if he weren’t going to be much help, he’d do what he could.

* * *

Lena settled down for the night. The sun had already set, and her vision wasn’t good enough at night to fly. Some dragons could augment their nighttime vision with magic, but she wasn’t one of them. Mrs. Beakley seemed to suffer from a similar problem. Therefore, before the sky had gone completely dark and they wouldn’t be able to blunder about, they made camp.

They also needed to eat. All of that flying was draining, and while Lena could rely on the ley lines to restore herself, it might mean depriving the land of magic it needed. Speaking of which, that dread feeling that had been in the pit of her stomach had grown and spread. She didn’t know what was going on with Magica, and it seemed like the time had come to discover what.

So while Mrs. Beakley prepared dinner, Lena changed back into her humanoid form behind a tree, dressed, and removed her necklace before sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of the fire. She closed her eyes and sought her aunt out in the astral plane. As before, it was an odd experience because she never ordinarily tried to find her. Typically, Aunt Magica found _her _whether Lena liked it or not.

((Aunt Magica?)) Lena whispered. It felt like she was shouting into an ether. The chaos that had eclipsed her aunt was complete now, and she couldn’t sense her mind, only darkness, and almost mind-numbing pain. As this wasn’t a Bond, the emotions were surface glances compared to what would have been disabling otherwise. It was still disconcerting, regardless. Magica felt, well, abandoned. Lena couldn’t think of why until she sought the other half of the Bond.

It was gone. Gladstone had somehow ripped the Bond asunder and extricated himself. No wonder her aunt was reeling. Lena hadn’t known that was physically possible, save death, and surely Gladstone was too lucky to attract the wrong sort of attention and perish. Unless that was what he’d intended all along, the only way he thought to escape her aunt. Lena’s stomach churned.

Lena knew what befell those whose Bondeds died and, judging by the churning mass of darkness that used to be her aunt’s mind, Aunt Magica had fallen prey to it. She would be nothing but a gibbering fool now. Lena wished she could take comfort in that, but the warped magic was spreading faster than it could safely be contained. And if Magica was out of the picture, then she and Violet were the foremost experts. Violet, through her books and Lena through experience.

Jeez, if it was down to them, they were screwed. She had no choice but to bring her Bondeds in on this.

First things first. She disengaged from her aunt’s mind and glanced at Mrs. Beakley, who had finished cooking and was likewise sitting and communing — or attempting to. 

“We’re still not close enough for me to speak with Webby,” Mrs. Beakley admitted, sighing.

Lena took that as her cue and tapped into Webby’s mind. Webby was too distracted to pay her any attention. Lena had a vague impression of an explosion followed by fire and anger in spades. Everything was confused, and Webby didn’t have the time to delve into what was going on.

“Nothing useful,” Lena confirmed.

Mrs. Beakley frowned, doling out the stew. “What about Magica?”

Lena winced. “We have a bigger problem on our hands now than just her. The Bond broke, and in its previous state, its magic exploded outward. And…”

Lena gestured expansively around them. “Shit hit the fan.”

“I’m not sure I’m quite following you,” Mrs. Beakley admitted.

“Oh, believe me, you’ll notice soon enough,” Lena grimaced. “We all will.”

“And what do you mean, ‘the Bond broke’?”

“I don’t know if Gladstone is dead or alive, but he’s no longer Bonded to Magica,” Lena confirmed. “And Magica’s completely gone. I mean, not dead. But insane. And not the type of insane that has any control over her activities anymore. I mean, like, trapped in her head crazy. The kind that sits and stares at the walls in a mental hospital while wrapped in a straitjacket in a padded room.”

Mrs. Beakley’s frown deepened. “That bad?”

“Yeah. But like I said, she’s not the problem anymore…” Lena said. “The aftermath is.”

And the aftermath was going to be a doozy. Lena just hoped she was prepared for it. And she hoped that whatever was going on with Webby would resolve itself without further bloodshed, at least on her Bondeds’ parts. She didn’t care if Lunaris and his whole team burned. It might make things more comfortable if they did. 

Lena chewed the inside of her cheek. They should try to get some sleep now that they’d finished eating, but Lena doubted she’d be able to. Between the magic crackling around her and anxiety over Webby and Dewey, she was too apprehensive to sleep. Mrs. Beakley looked to be in the same boat. 

“They’ll be okay,” Lena said, though whether she was trying to convince herself or Mrs. Beakley, she didn’t know. The words fell flat, as neither of them believed her. Lena stared out into the darkness. If they flew all night, they’d reach the base by morning but be too tired to do anything. Besides, whatever was happening would be over by then, she hoped.

She lent her Bondeds what strength she could and stretched out on the ground. She wasn’t expecting sleep anymore, but a way into their minds so she could at least monitor from afar. Being cut off from them was agonizing. It had to be close to what Aunt Magica was feeling, except Lena didn’t deserve it. Aunt Magica did.

(Would the world burn as a result?)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This series is done...for now. :P I'll come up with a sequel when I'm not bogged down with a bunch of other stuff.

At least one of Louie’s theories had panned out, just not the one he’d thought would. As it turned out, he couldn’t use his electricity to trick the computer into revealing its secrets. He might’ve been able to if he’d had the time to finetune his powers, but time was of the essence.

On the plus side, Doofus hadn’t put a camera lock on his computer, which was good, but the PIN seemed impossible to deduce. Then he hit upon it. As the only person Doofus had ever loved in the world, his MeeMaw would probably be the key. He pulled out his cell phone, which he always had on him. Even when he’d turned into a dragon, he’d taped it to his body. Like hell did he intend to be without it.

It didn’t take much time to locate her birthdate, which was, as he’d suspected, Doofus’s PIN. Once he had the desktop loaded, he frowned. Where would Doofus keep incriminating stuff? And what was so bad that he didn’t want it exposed? 

He clicked on a folder buried in his documents called “Bonding.” It included what must’ve been dozens of videos of dragons at various points of completing the ritual. They soared through the air, performed the ceremony, and snuggled together after each phase was over. Louie stared, baffled. Okay, this was weird, granted, but it wasn’t precisely incriminating. Was this what Doofus was afraid would leak? He clicked open a particular file that featured a pink dragon and then growled--Doofus had snuck a drone at some point to record Webby practicing in her dragon form. Another video featured himself in dragon form. The thing was, taken by itself, the videos were stalkerish, sure, but they weren’t anything untoward. It was just the whole Dragon clan doing normal things. Why would Doofus go to such lengths to preserve this?

He clicked on another document; by now, he’d half shifted back into humanoid form, with only his stubbly tail remaining. It swished back and forth.

Doofus had a diary. Louie snorted, not surprised. If there were going to be anything particularly juicy, it’d be in here. Normally, Louie made it a point to avoid these things, unless there was a potential for money and blackmail. And even then, it wasn’t something he indulged in often. 

“Hello-wyn, Llewellyn,” Doofus crooned, silhouetted against the sky. Louie had chosen a camp a couple of miles away from the detention center, although he yearned to know what had befallen his family and why he still couldn’t talk to his brothers mind to mind. It was like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

“So…” Louie replied, “is there any particular reason why you’ve been filming my family? Other than fulfilling your role as creepy as fuck?”

Doofus snarled, smoke trickling out of his nostrils. Louie wished he could do something half as cool. No, all the coolness had to go to Dewey, and Dewey tried _way _too hard. It made him wonder what Webby (and Lena) saw in him. But that was neither here nor there.

“You stay out of there!” Doofus snapped.

“Oh?” Louie said and then smirked as his eyes fell upon a tidbit that would make excellent blackmail. “So it’s not true that you still sleep with a stuffed version of your grandmother? Or that you’re obsessed with the Bonding ritual? That you’ve been secretly filming everyone in Dragonburg?”

Doofus looked torn between anger and fear. Louie’s smirk broadened into a grin. Doofus was right where he wanted him, then, so long as the rage didn’t win out.

“You know, for someone who seems determined to take me by force, you’re pretty obsessed with romance and courting,” Louie continued. “Or is that not the image you wanted to present?”

Doofus glowered and then settled down on the ground near Louie. Louie would’ve been lying if he said that having his nemesis this close to him wasn’t unsettling. It was bad enough they had to breathe the same air. Being close enough to touch was skin crawling.

“You will give me back that computer at once,” Doofus hissed.

“You’ll let my family go,” Louie snapped. “And then you’ll leave me alone.”

“If Lunaris hasn’t already killed them…” Doofus sniffed, and it was Louie’s turn to growl, his tail swishing like mad against the ground and kicking up dust clouds. His eyes narrowed at the overweight dragon.

“What’s the matter? Jealous because you don’t have a family? Only servants?” Louie sneered. He couldn’t help it. His blood was up.

“I don’t need a family,” Doofus hissed. “I’ll have you.”

“For the last time, _no_,” Louie retorted, baring his teeth. He wouldn’t have enough time to shift and carry away the laptop. Why Doofus didn’t lunge for it now, he didn’t know. Or was there something else in his diary that he was afraid to let Louie see and yet, comprehended that he might have already glimpsed it? Whatever the case, Louie was on tenterhooks.

“But…” Louie smirked. “Maybe you’ll have a fun time explaining your activities to everyone in Dragonburg. And...send.”

Doofus froze. In reality, Louie hadn’t done anything, but he didn’t think he’d call his bluff. A wicked grin split Louie’s face, and he waited for the shit to hit the fan. Doofus didn’t seem capable of moving, and Louie pushed himself to his feet. He’d probably have to make good on that threat soon, or it’d lose power. 

“What’s the matter?” Louie crooned. “Don’t you want the world to know how much you love romance? And all that disgusting stuff?”

Doofus glared but didn’t speak. Louie hit a few more keys, and this time, he sent out all the videos and the diary document to everyone on Doofus’s contact list. That was the hazard of having a computer that synced with your phone. Everything was connected. 

“You didn’t,” Doofus hissed.

“Didn’t I, my fine sir? Didn’t I?” Louie threw back.

Doofus looked well and truly screwed, and Louie would have loved to bask at the moment, but he had more important things to do. Therefore, offering his adversary a mock bow, he took to the skies again with the laptop clutched tightly in his front claws. Now that the material was out in the open, the computer itself probably wasn’t an issue, but he hadn’t plumbed its depths yet, either. There might be more material on here just waiting to be milked.

And...the detention center was still on fire. Yeah, that didn’t bode well. At all. Louie hastened his way there, clutching the laptop close to him, and scanned the skies for any further threats. Black Heron might’ve come down on Webby before, but Webby had ended that particular reign of terror. And Lena had her own problems. Speaking of which…

Lena trumpeted in the distance, and with her was Mrs. Beakley. Louie loosed a relieved breath. He never thought he’d be happy to see both of them, yet here he was. He was sure they were about to hail him when they too caught a glimpse of the detention center. Mrs. Beakley snarled, and Louie rushed to intercept her, which was a dangerous proposition even at the best of times.

“No-fly zone, remember?” he warned her. “You’ll have to proceed on foot from here.”

Mrs. Beakley’s eyes flashed, and she looked for a second like she’d like to argue, but she swallowed back her objections. 

“But you can fly in there?” Lena asked, and Louie nodded.

“I’m exempt. I assume the others would be too if they could get out,” Louie said, wincing. He felt guilty for having left them behind.

“You left them there?” Lena snarled, and her tail whipped through the air in a frenzy. 

“We will discuss this later,” Mrs. Beakley snapped with a warning gaze at her granddaughter-in-law. “Lead us on foot, then. Why are you carrying a laptop?”

Louie glanced over his shoulder. Doofus hadn’t budged from his spot, but that didn’t mean he’d linger forever. He needed a safe place to stow the laptop, where Doofus wouldn’t guess he’d put it. For a wild second, he contemplated giving it to Doofus’s parents, but they didn’t have the backbone to hide it from him if he demanded it back.

A wicked grin split his features. He moved closer to Mrs. Beakley and offered her the computer.

“This is blackmail material for Doofus,” he told her. “Keep it safe.”

Mrs. Beakley raised what would’ve been her eyebrows if she’d been in humanoid form. Instead, the ridges above her eyes shifted upward. 

“I’ll take it,” Lena offered, and Louie glanced at her. 

“No offense, but Doofus is way less inclined to mess with Mrs. B than he is with you, Lena,” Louie said, and Lena’s eyes glowed molten gold. It was unsettling, but then again, he knew what she was capable of. Doofus wouldn’t. She still looked like she wanted to make an issue out of it, though. Her eyes blazed defiance.

“I’ll take it,” Mrs. Beakley snapped, in a tone that indicated this too would join the slag heap of conversation he could look forward to once the crisis was averted. Yeah, he wasn’t looking forward to that either. Then again, none of this was his fault, so why did people feel the need to lecture him anyway? It’s not like he wanted the attention of a creepy manchild.

Grateful, he handed the computer over, and Lena gave him a look that likewise promised a more extended conversation later. He couldn’t wait.

Louie led them in the sky while Mrs. Beakley and Lena traveled on foot. He could smell the smoke, and it burned his lungs. That was nothing, he knew, compared to what was going on inside the compound. He could fret over them while worrying more about his own safety. Doofus wasn’t going to stay there forever; he’d want revenge. That was the cycle, and Louie rolled his eyes. For once, he’d like a villain to remain vanquished. Was that too much to ask?

* * *

The smoke was acrid and burned their throats, but it was nothing compared to the inferno that Della had unwittingly unleashed. Lunaris had attacked her and, disused to her powers, as they hadn’t functioned when she’d been paralyzed, she’d reacted instinctively. Like Lena, when she was emotional, her magic flared, and she couldn’t control it. She’d been too angry, between Lunaris and losing Louie, to think her actions through. Hence...the detention center was ablaze. She couldn’t say she was sorry for that.

Her attack had thrown Lunaris for a loop; in the entire time he’d known her, he hadn’t witnessed her powers or the legendary Dragon temper. Penumbra, however, had taken it in her stride (or appeared to). Whether the neutral dragon had or not was immaterial. Once she’d seen Lunaris was on the defensive, she’d materialized to capitalize on it. 

Della had blown out a hole in the back of the detention center, and, as it was impossible to see her hands in front of her face, she’d taken advantage of the confusion to locate her family. Lunaris snarled, but he was blinded too--she’d thrown hot embers in his face. Hey, no one messed with the Dragon family and lived to tell the tale. 

It was a good thing that she and Penumbra were on the same page. Della grabbed Huey and Dewey, and Scrooge seized Webby. With the others in tow, she rushed toward freedom and fresh air. Like hell was she waiting for someone to rescue her this time. Della Dragon could save herself; thank you very much. 

Lunaris roared in the background, and she heard pursuit. She barreled into a robust and large dragon headfirst and looked up. Mrs. Beakley stared back. She was carrying a laptop, which prompted Della to do a double-take. Behind her were Lena and Louie. Louie had half-shifted, with dragon wings and tail but otherwise humanoid and with his customary green hoodie.

Smoke billowed out of the detention center. They didn’t have much time. 

“Granny!” Webby called. For the fire elementals, the smoke and flames didn’t do much, but for the others, it had to be nigh on unbearable. The group turned as one as Lunaris reappeared. Penumbra fluttered down at Lena’s side and inclined her head at Della, who inclined hers back. She wanted to rejoice that Penny had escaped the inferno, but she didn’t have time for it now.

“Traitor,” Lunaris spat, silhouetted by the smoke and crackling fire. He looked insane; his black draconic features distorted with rage. Darkness trailed behind him in his dragon form, and its weight on the astral plane pressed upon Della’s chest. Della didn’t know how he’d concealed his true nature for so long, but some magic users were adept at downplaying their magical prowess.

“Not like you left me much choice,” Penny retorted and then added, almost as an afterthought, “_Sir_.”

“She isn’t one of us,” he growled. “I brought you under my wing. I trained you. And this is how you repay me?”

“You subjugated an innocent woman for your own ends,” Penumbra countered. “You had us attack her family all so you could take on Scrooge. I don’t know in what universe you thought that was a rational thing to do--”

“This one, Penumbra,” Lunaris cut her off. He smiled, his expression a rictus grin. “Scrooge McDragon has had too much power for too long.”

He lunged forward, ignoring Della, and snapped his jaws experimentally at Scrooge and close to his throat. Della seethed, but she knew Scrooge could hold his own. Goldie was there too, though Della trusted her less. She knew she had her own agenda and rarely did hers, and Della’s coincide.

“That’s why I’ve brought my army here,” Lunaris continued. “To finish you off.”

If Lunaris looked mad, that was nothing compared to the other dragons fanning out behind him. The ten or so dragons looked more than capable of tearing out Scrooge’s throat and then squabbling over the leftovers. She didn’t know what their elements were--you couldn’t tell by scale color--but she knew that she, as well as the kids, was ready to fight. Scrooge and his entourage likewise spread out. Della was glad to see Mrs. Beakley, as she was the equivalent of at least five dragons.

“And what will you do?” Penny shot back at Lunaris. “Watch the show?”

“Of course not,” Lunaris said. “I have a meeting with Flintheart Glomgold.”

Lunaris took to the skies after giving the signal for the dragons to attack. He didn’t get very far, however. While the dark-sided dragons seized up their opponents, Lena’s amulet glowed, and Lunaris dropped like a stone. She glanced at Scrooge, and Scrooge shook his head ever so slightly. That one was Scrooge’s. Lena could have someone else, anyone else, but he would have his vengeance.

Lena finally shrugged and trotted up to Webby and Dewey.

“Hey, long time, no speak,” Lena said. “How are things?”

“Oh, you know, the usual. People were trying to kill us,” Dewey answered. “What’s going on with you?”

“Oh, you know, the usual. Aunt Magica destroying the world,” Lena said and shrugged, concealing a yawn. “Been there, done that. I need a t-shirt.”

The time for chit-chat ended, and they engaged their opponents. Hers used electricity, which Della sidestepped and blew out flames. Her opponent dodged where she thought they were going, but Della had been aiming for the tree behind her, which creaked ominously. The dragon looked back, just for a few seconds, and that was time Della used to her advantage.

She tackled it into the burning tree, and the trunk cracked in half, falling upon her enemy. That should be enough to leave them insensible, but not to kill them. These people had been her friends, or, at least, her acquaintances once upon a time. She had no desire to hurt them.

With one foe out of commission, she turned to the battle at large. Lena, Dewey, and Webby were acting in concert, probably communicating their attacks via telepathy. Then again, Dewey and Webby had been close even before the Bond. She smiled, knowing that her middle son was happy.

“Mom!” Louie cried, hurrying up to her. “You’re okay?”

“Fine, honey,” she huffed, blowing a piece of mane out of her face that had popped into her field of vision. “More importantly, how are _you_? Doofus didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“Nope,” Louie said with a smug grin. “And I just sank whatever chances he had of leading any sort of social life.”

Della grinned back. “That’s what was up with the laptop earlier. You got dirt on him.”

“Of course,” he said. He ducked as someone with telekinetic powers threw the other half of that tree trunk at them, and it flew over his head. Della snarled, stepping in front of her son, and challenging whoever had dared to a fight. She’d take down anyone who tried to hurt her children. 

As for Lunaris and Scrooge, she had no idea what had befallen them. She didn’t know how long Lena’s spells lasted, either, without her concentration to propel them. They didn’t need to last long in the case of transfiguring objects, but freezing people, Della imagined, would take a bit more mojo. 

Goldie snarled suddenly, jumping up, and Della watched, bemused, as her uncle’s on and off paramour raised the earth to ensnare their foe. Unlike Scrooge, Goldie didn’t like to get her hands dirty in a fight, not unless she had no other option. It wasn’t that she was a lady so much as she preferred underhanded tricks. At least this time it seemed to be working. Della snorted, slamming her head into the other dragon’s chest and knocking it off balance. If she could get it onto its back, then it’d be helpless.

Between Mrs. Beakley and the Bonded trio, their opponents had dwindled. Other than the person Della was fighting and the stragglers from the battle, Lunaris was outnumbered, outmanned, and outgunned. Penny landed near Della.

“Look, I’m not saying that I’m glad to see you, because I’m not,” Penny said. “But…”

She shifted into her humanoid form, complete with that familiar bob of grey hair and her gold clothes. She might’ve been using glamour to project her clothes, but Della wasn’t about to call her out on it. Della shifted into humanoid form too, doing likewise, and Penny shocked her by hugging her tightly. Della hugged her back.

“I’m glad to see you’re intact after so long,” Penny whispered. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I’ve missed you, Penny,” Della said. Penumbra pulled back, blushing. Della raised her eyebrows, and Penumbra coughed, looking away and attempting to regain her composure.

”Regardless of what happens with Lunaris, I’m finished here. The others would never trust me, not after I betrayed him, and I have no interest in taking down your uncle or ruling Dragonburg. So, I guess I have no idea what happens now.”

“You can come live with us!” Della said brightly. “We have plenty of room at the manor.”

Penumbra blushed again, faltering. Finally, she looked up again and said gruffly, “Yes, I’d like that.”

“Great!” Della said. “But, uh...you might wanna wait on that.”

Scrooge roared defiance, and the earth rumbled warningly beneath them. Shit was about to hit the fan. 

* * *

It wasn’t Lunaris Scrooge was reacting to. It was the taint of dark magic, filling the air and spreading through the earth. It was also that distant feeling of something amiss, beyond the dark magic corrupting things. He didn’t know where it originated, only that anyone who had partially or entirely Bonded would notice. 

What this portended for himself and Goldie, as well as Lena, Dewey, and Webby, he didn’t know. At least Lunaris was contained for now. Thank goodness for small miracles.

It looked like Louie had solved his problem, too. That left Lena…

Lena shook her head ever so slightly at him, an almost mirror of what had happened earlier. Scrooge glanced around him, at the dead earth and plants, and then back at her. Dread filled him, but he didn’t dare capitulate to it, not yet. 

They would need to nip this before it spread too far, but to do that, they’d need sorcerers and possibly help from surrounding areas. That would be a problem for another day; everyone would need to recover here first. 

Still, he had his misgivings as they took their prisoners out. Delay probably wouldn’t help the situation, and inaction might be toxic. But he didn’t see a choice, not yet. What, exactly, _had _happened with Magica and Gladstone?

* * *

Magica rocked back and forth, insensible to the world. Poe had brought her to an asylum for Bonded dragons that had lost their mates. He couldn’t risk leaving her in the manor in case she came to her senses, which he doubted would happen anyway. He had no sense of her in his mind, and he knew that if Gladstone hadn’t died, he’d figured out a way to fully wrench the Bond apart. This was bad, though. Between the Bond’s contained magic and Magica’s sorcery, the fallout would be catastrophic. 

All he could do was warn Scrooge when he returned and prepare for the worst. He feared the worst had already come. 


End file.
